This poem is about areas of Ukraine that were liberated from RF contract army and soldier of fortune, some Russian from prisons. I wrote it after a studying a detailed report about treatment of civilian population in the currently still occupied Kherson region, already knowing a lot about war crimes in Bucha, Irpen, and other Ukrainian towns and villages.
Waiting for the end
of a crime,
courtesy of pivotal sadism,
willing to extend
we delay analytics of cataclysm.
Secret agents are dealing with substances,
mercenaries holding salute,
occupation is clearing the best of us.
Hurry, sergeant, we need to grab something:
take his bone, take her skin, their last breath
of didactical agony,
make them scream in antagony
to intrinsic perversion of you!
Kill for sustenance.