I don't feel the pain anymore,
Don't hide from the rain as before,
Don't have the warmth in my soul,
It's gone away and now I'm cold.
No more colour of blue skies,
I can't get through unopened eyes.
I don't care what's going on,
Whether - fire, whether -storm,
Or the war rolls crossing earth,
Or in piece predominates rebirth.
From moral principles and creed
I'm free, I don't give a shit.
No more problems to decide,
And there's nobody to bide.
Steam comes out of my flesh,
Blood is running from the gash.
I fell down, my axe in hand,
For my native motherland.
And nothing bothers me from now,
I'm receding, looking down.
Warrior s death
© Copyright: Пилипенко Сергей, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110032405885
Свидетельство о публикации №110032405885
Рецензии