Lies smirking on his limb;
Sucking marrow, grease, and fat,
From bones of children killed for him.
His tiny orbs, his lizard eyes,
Grow darker with each bite.
He relishes their plaintive cries,
And loves it when they fight.
He thinks that he is Khan reborn,
To conquer and enslave
A peaceful people tattered, torn,
With one foot in the grave.
One hopes the world will understand,
The nature of his sin,
And lead him by his slimy hand
To jail, and lock him in.
Mick McKellar
March 2022
This came to me in the middle of the night and woke me up. It appears my nightmares are in Russian these days.
Mick
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