In Syria was a path deep and fine,
For Lebanon’s militia and Persia’s claim divine.
But lo! Assad's fall doth wasted the line,
Alas! Cried Hezbollah, our lifeline doth decline.
In the land of Morning Calm, with politics unkind,
Brewed from a Cold-War, divisions we find.
Yoon Suk Yeol, thy decision maligned,
Military folly hath the nation confined.
India, land bewitched by the toxic fog,
Battles it artfully with mechanisms odd.
Antismog guns and drones ply the smog,
But mere plasters these, in the looming murk clogged.
