leila, poetry

Defeat

Through savannah and Karakum
one hundred thousand
deaths are riding
to the throne of Kazakhstan

Xerophytes from Kiev
welcomes Master of the Urals:

“We fell down without delievering
the best we could
the best we had
on cavalry
I cut out Kyiv
but,
saline glory looks pale, is fading”

When she heard this
river huddled
among the bowel from the Hetman

at dusk
all died down
all Cossacks
have fallen
assigned to the cruelty

Along the steppe
boomed and thundered
in a flood of
river Nadja

As I walk I am crying
as I walk I’m laughing

This water is born anew

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