The Price of Abandonment
Three Years of War, Ten Years of Betrayal—How the West’s Broken Promises Are Costing More Than Just a Battlefield.
Intro:
For three years, Ukraine has fought with unwavering resolve, standing against tyranny while the world watched. Promises were made—of weapons, of support, of an unbreakable alliance. Yet, as the war grinds on, those promises fade into silence. This is not the first time Ukraine has been left to fight alone. Ten years ago, Crimea was taken, and the world turned away. Now, history repeats, and the cost of abandonment grows heavier with each passing day.
They stood in the fire, in the blackened dawn,
Where the echoes of war had never withdrawn.
With shattered homes and frozen breath,
They carved their fate in the face of death.
They held the line with blood and steel,
A fortress forged in iron will.
Not for conquest, nor for gain,
But so their children need not know this pain.
For three long years, the world has cheered,
Promising aid, promising spears.
"Fight on!" they cried from distant lands,
Yet now they falter, fold their hands.
The halls of power, gilded and bright,
Trade lives away in dim-lit nights.
Not for justice, not for peace,
But for convenience, for release.
A ledger inked in fear and doubt,
As deals are made and truths cast out.
One moment sworn to stand and fight,
The next, they flicker—douse the light.
"Not our war," they whisper low,
While cities burn in the eastern snow.
"Not our fight," they shake their heads,
As trenches fill with the newly dead.
Yet history listens, patient still,
It knows the cost of a broken will.
For every promise left unkept,
Another grave is dug and swept.
Did you not see, ten years before,
When they were left outside the door?
When the world turned back, and Crimea fell,
And silence rang like a funeral bell?
"Sanctions," they said, a slap on the wrist,
While Moscow’s hand clenched iron fists.
And those who warned of what would come,
Were mocked, ignored—dismissed as dumb.
And now, again, the same cruel play,
As war grinds on another day.
The speeches fade, the headlines turn,
While Ukraine fights, while cities burn.
Appeasement never fed the beast,
It only bought a hollow feast.
A banquet served in fleeting peace,
Before the warlords sink their teeth.
Ukraine does not have time to wait,
For stalled debates, for shifting fates.
Each hour, a father holds the line,
Each dawn, a mother buries time.
And still, they fight, with hands turned raw,
Not for a flag, but for the law—
The law that might, for once, defend
That tyranny must meet its end.
But if the West should cast them loose,
Cut their lifeline, tie the noose,
Then what remains of trust and grace?
What justice stands, what truth takes place?
The world is watching, silent, grim,
As shadows rise and futures dim.
And history waits, as it always must,
To see if honor turns to dust.
Conclusion:
To abandon Ukraine now is to surrender not just a battlefield, but the very idea of justice. It is a choice between honor and betrayal, between standing firm or repeating the failures of the past. The world is watching. History is recording. And one day, those who chose silence will have to answer for the price of abandonment.
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