Mold
In the distant, terrible forty-first
Trouble was coming Home
As if in a bad dream
The fascist plague came to our house.
She walked on the land of her birth,
To turn people into slaves.
And the anger was full of animal,
Everyone was ready to kill.
But the human soul was stirred up in a moment,
In Holy anger at his enemies,
And people went into battle, despising death,
For life, freedom, for your love.
High price paid for the victory that was,
In bloody battles we overcame the enemy,
People expelled the evil adversary,
The earth was cleared of the evil plague.
The plague is gone, the mold is left,
We did not destroy the enemy to the end.
And the mold is such a thing,
Everything on earth tends to bend under itself.
And today, the war began.,
Mildew creeps quietly out of the cracks,
But now the task before us is this,
Turn people into slaves.
Quietly, slowly creeping mold
Enveloping us minds, hearts, bodies
And if, suddenly, we relax very much
Then we shall be enslaved to her,
Now-forever.
Only in battle can we destroy,
Mold us like a vicious enemy.
If we destroy the mold,
We'll be free forever.
July 17, 2018.
Свидетельство о публикации №120010212312