With apologies to Samuel Taylor Coleridge
In Moscow town did Vlad the Git
A mighty tyranny decree,
Where deception and delusion ruled
A realm of decent peaceful folk,
Now subject to insanity.
It was a miracle of rare device,
Confected smiles concealing vice.
A savage place at times, but sacred,
So His Holiness good Kirill said.
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision Vlad did see.
It was a Ukrainian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of independency.
So with music loud and long,
Vlad did sing his baleful song.
Then ’mid the tumult Vlad did hear
Ancestral voices calling, “War”.
And all who heard it cried, “Beware
His twitching eyes, his empty stare”.
For Vlad hath fed on vodka-dew,
And dreamed his dream of Xanadu.
Graham P. Cooney