A log of the magnificent journey across the vast sea of my imagination. |
| When Putin slaps his thigh, his army soon descends, promoting evil trends. When missiles start to fly, our heroes say goodbye to family and friends. Too late to save the whole of population's folk beneath destruction's cloak, all stand aghast at toll, but try to take control amid the fire and smoke. We witness misery now etched in history. Notes on the HexSonnetta form of poetry ▶︎ |