Oleksandr A. Khmeliarov

The land is down

For the fallen immortal heroes. This is a poem written about my brother by his combat friends who were with him there in his last battle… They wrote as they felt that night. Simple, sincere and strong. About Yura and Sasha, who then died together to save the lives of many. They gave their lives so that we might live… And we must remember. They walked through the night, Through the field, Across the tall dry grass. They knew where, They didn't ask why. And nothing foreshadowed trouble. A long queue and silence… Scream on the walkie-talkie - Two two hundred! Repeated it seven times, Until everyone understood. None of us could believe it. I hold his hand, Which is wet with fresh blood And still warm as in the morning, When we greeted each other. Blue eyes are glassy Sprinkled with crumbs of dirt. You did not want to close them. You wanted to remain in the world. The cloak of the tent in crimson traces, Enveloped your bodies. Tears could not no one will shed