He arrogantly jumped out of the starting block long before the gun roared. He was deluded into thinking the race was a sprint but now, he is faced with an agonizing marathon. Yet, he rages on like a bull in a china shop, shattering windows of hope and breaking the utensils of peace. In his recklessness, he displays no regard for lives, both of his own people and of his opponents. In his unpreparedness, he underestimated his opponents’ will to resist his tyranny. In his hurried adventure, he disregarded his forces’ morale and bungled logistics. He is frustrated to see his firepower curtailed and his aggression repelled by what he thought was a ragtag army. His military reverses belie his claim to a world power status. In place of victories, he is counting corpses and hauling his men into hospitals at unprecedented rates. Out of desperation and to assuage his people’s restlessness, he placed price tags on the dead and the wounded. Yet, like the historical Pharaoh, he doubles down on his misadventure, driving his forces furiously to the edge of the precipice.
Putin is in a macabre dance urged on by fewer drummers than he had anticipated. Having been isolated into a pariah status, he goes cap in hand, begging for supplies and trade. How are the mighty fallen? In the meantime, he emasculates the growing opposition at home and feeds his dominated sheep with unbalanced hay of propaganda.
Sure, his end is near. His dark cloud of terror will not long possess the sky. There shall be a rain of joy and the dawn of peace. He will drink from the cup of his fury and stray into the pit of destruction he dug. And, to be sure, Ukraine shall know peace, and Russia shall be free.
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