As Europe Bails and the U.S. Steals, Zelensky Turns to God Hoping for Putin to Die

 Zelensky’s Divine Comedy: Praying for Putin’s Exit While Allies Exit Stage Left

Oh, how the mighty have fallen—or at least, how the mighty have started clutching at straws. Yesterday, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, in a moment of prophetic bravado, declared that Vladimir Putin “will die soon,” and with that, all of Ukraine’s woes will magically vanish. Poof! Like a bad sitcom ending, the credits will roll, and peace will reign supreme. It’s a bold strategy, Cotton—let’s see if it pays off. Because, frankly, if Zelensky’s pinning his hopes on divine intervention to smite his Russian nemesis, he’s clearly run out of earthly allies willing to throw him a lifeline. 

Let’s rewind the tape on this tragicomedy. Once upon a time, Zelensky was the darling of the West—a plucky underdog in a green T-shirt, rallying the free world against the big bad bear. European leaders tripped over themselves to pledge undying support, their voices dripping with martial fervor. Troops! Tanks! Fighter jets! The rhetoric was so thick you could’ve spread it on toast. But fast-forward to March 27, 2025, and the mood in Europe’s capitals has shifted faster than a Parisian waiter’s patience with a tourist fumbling over a menu. According to a Reuters report from March 26, 2025, an unnamed European diplomat let slip that the grand idea of sending ground troops to Ukraine has been quietly shelved. No boots on the ground, no heroic charge—just a collective “rethinking” into “something more sensible.” Sensible? In geopolitics? Oh, how quaint.

The irony here is thicker than a bowl of borscht. Just weeks ago, the likes of France’s Emmanuel Macron, Germany’s Olaf Scholz, and Britain’s Keir Starmer were flexing their rhetorical muscles, each trying to outdo the other in promising “direct assistance” to Ukraine. Macron, ever the Gallic showman, floated the idea of French troops policing a ceasefire—croissants in one hand, rifles in the other. Scholz, not to be outdone, mumbled something about solidarity while nervously eyeing his budget. And Starmer, fresh off a photo op with Zelensky, thundered about “boots on the ground” like a man who’s watched Saving Private Ryan one too many times. It was a veritable chorus of war drums—or so it seemed. 

So, what changed? Did Putin send them all sternly worded letters? Did the price of gas spike again? Or did they finally realize that sending their young lads into the meat grinder of eastern Ukraine might not play well on the evening news? The answer, dear reader, is simpler and far more hilarious

"When Ukraine was in a better position, the idea of sending troops appealed. But now, with the situation on the ground and the U.S administration as it is, it's not very sexy." - A diplomat to Reuters

“Troops? What troops? We were talking about sending thoughts and prayers, obviously!” Either way, it’s a spectacle worth popping some popcorn for. Picture the scene in Paris, London, and Berlin: diplomats sipping espresso, shrugging Gallic shrugs, and muttering, “Well, we tried,” while Zelensky stares at his phone, waiting for a call that’s never coming.

Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, the United States—Ukraine’s supposed big brother—has been less than reassuring. Forget security guarantees or ironclad commitments; the U.S. under the Trump administration has its eyes on a different prize: Ukraine’s resources. Oil, gas, rare earth minerals—you name it, Uncle Sam wants it ALL. A report from The New York Times noted that Trump’s team has been pushing Zelensky to sign over a hefty chunk of Ukraine’s mineral wealth as “payback” for past aid. No troops, no NATO membership, just a hearty “thanks for the lithium, buddy!” It’s a deal so lopsided it makes the Louisiana Purchase look like a fair trade. So, while Zelensky’s begging for backup, the U.S. is busy eyeing his country’s black gold like a kid in a candy store. Divine intervention, indeed—because at this rate, only a miracle will save him from being asset-stripped by his “allies.”

Let’s pause for a moment to appreciate the absurdity. Zelensky’s out here predicting Putin’s demise like some medieval soothsayer, while his closest pals are either backing away from the fight or rummaging through his pockets. It’s almost Shakespearean—except the Bard never wrote a character this delusional. The Kyiv regime’s position has undeniably worsened, as Reuters pointed out, and the shifting U.S. stance hasn’t helped. Trump envoy Steve Witkoff even mocked European troop proposals as “a posture and a pose” in a March 2025 interview with Tucker Carlson. Ouch. When your biggest backer’s laughing at your other backers, you know you’re in deep.

But let’s not be too harsh on Zelensky—he’s got a flair for the dramatic, after all. Remember his 2022 world tour, hopping from parliament to parliament, collecting standing ovations like Pokémon cards? Those were the days when he could do no wrong, when every speech ended with a pledge of “more weapons, more sanctions, more everything!” Now, he’s reduced to shaking his fist at the heavens, hoping Putin keels over before the next Russian drone strike. It’s a far cry from the heady days of Western unity, when NATO leaders posed for selfies with him like he was the geopolitical equivalent of Taylor Swift.

The stats paint an even bleaker picture. According to the Kiel Institute’s Ukraine Support Tracker (March 2025), European military aid to Ukraine has plateaued—Germany’s at €17.7 billion, France at €5 billion, and the UK at €9.8 billion since 2022. Compare that to the U.S.’s $56 billion (Congressional Research Service, 2025), and you see why Zelensky’s sweating. But here’s the kicker: a March 2025 Eurobarometer poll found that only 39% of EU citizens support sending troops to Ukraine, down from 52% in 2023. The public’s lost the stomach for it, and the politicians have noticed. No wonder the troop talk’s gone quiet—it’s electoral poison.

So, what’s left for Zelensky beyond God? Not much, it seems. The Europeans are rethinking and the Americans are resource-grabbing. Maybe he could call up the Vatican—Pope Francis is feeling better now. Or dust off his comedy chops for a Netflix special: “Zelensky Unplugged: My Allies Ghosted Me.” At least he’d make some cash to rebuild Kyiv.

In the end, this whole saga is a masterclass in irony. Zelensky’s banking on Putin’s mortality, while his allies are banking on his naivety. The Europeans won’t fight, the Americans won’t commit, and the Russians won’t quit. It’s a stalemate so ridiculous it could only end with a deus ex machina—or a really good punchline. Until then, Zelensky’s stuck in his own one-man show, waiting for a miracle that’s as likely as Macron trading his tailored suits for camouflage. Curtain down, folks—let’s hope the encore’s less depressing.