The Kremlin's buying rubles back for gold
like corporations pumping up their shares.
The specie Romanovs worked hard to hold's
evaporating in the Autumn air.
Potempkin's nation let slip the facade
that its economy can still support
the stupid war that Cyril blessed "by God",
while frightened bankers play their last resort.
That bullions finite, and his credit's shot;
Provincial Banks are glutted with his scrip.
When all that's left are nukes, and kompromat,
Ukraine hangs strong, while Putin 's seen to slip.
Failed bid to shatter Europe's common front
reveals this heir to Czars' the martial runt.
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