Unknown Soldier
They turned the night into day, the laser guns.
In Noviy Yekaterinburg.
Thrice-God-damned New Yekaterinburg.
In the time of the Great March.
"The Great March" they named it; the fools...
It was slaughter, my good sir.
It was a massacre.
We marched to New Yekaterinburg through the swamps while the laser guns mowed us down.
It was there that Volodia lost both his legs. Poor Volodia...
It was there that Grisha -- my friend Grisha, kind sir! -- took a bullet in the belly. He only managed to take three steps holding tight onto his guts before they spilled out onto the mud.
And what about me, you ask.
I am here, my good sir.
I am still here.
Dead lines
I write
A knife poised at my throat
I write
I must finish before night falls
It´s getting dark
I write
A word, another word
Then again
A word, another word
It´s getting dark
I write
In blood
I only write
In blood
Electra, whenever that was
and then you knock down the straw hut, alone / alone / alone in a hostile (in a sickly) universe, blinded by the Flash and the Bang, and then the iron hand will rise and it will try to crush you -- yes -- like a gnat -- (like a tiny gnat) -- yes -- corrupting your (very) / (mystical) essence, like a bombed-out sea of emotions...
one day I will climb to the top of the hill
one day I will find the bridge of moondust
one day I will climb to the top of the hill
glass fragments cutting your hands, broken shards of crystal grenades, like a slow-boiling pot
until they break
until it bursts
until we burst