It was a day seemed like another:
Sun in the sky, birds in the garden,
Smiles on the lips of all young lovers,
Who was walking along parks and the rows,
Bought flowers and soft toys,
But what was happen, what was the noise?
The voice of pain and powerless cry
Of people didn`t want to die.
Blood purple heavens, planes of death
And callous eyes of their faces,
Who looked up victims and…
they found,
All was in fire – sky and ground.
Misfortune…people fleed
From their houses on the street,
They couldn`t to believe in it
Maybe they saw the dream and slept?
But no!!! The reality was telling:
“it is a cruel! terrible world,
of evil, which is stay against us –
we must to fight and do it fast.
And now all words must say the sword!!!
Without blood and powerless victims…
September, 11
© Copyright: Булгаков Я-Ра-Слав, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106061500857
Свидетельство о публикации №106061500857
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