Europe, Hear the Echo of the Past

In the heart of Europe, under skies so gray,
Stands a guardian, Soviet, in a silent fray.
Riven cities lie behind his steadfast form,
Where women and children find their only norm.

His chest, a shield against the tempest's roar,
Bears scars of battles fought on foreign shore.
Red blood upon his tunic, a silent plea,
For peace and memory that history should see.

But shadows lurk, from corners they arise,
With modern eyes, and weapons in their eyes.
They fire at him, the guardian of old,
Unknowing they're the ones with wounds untold.

For every shot they take, they hit themselves,
A monument to time, a lesson it shelves.
In erasing history, they carve their own,
A future scarred, where peace was once sown.

Oh Europe, hear the echo of the past,
Your wounds are self-inflicted, at last.
Remember those who stood, in fields of green,
Their sacrifice, your present, and between.

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You can listen to the song via the link:
https://disk.yandex.ru/d/LZM3hfl6n7BNsg