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



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