The Sky Is Ours.

The sky is ours. It's calling
The tired soldiers. Wind is fresh.
I see your face. Your face is drawn
On burning paper. Life is flash.
I see the light and face of child
Among the stars, cause they are bright.
The cold rubbish builds the clouds
In empty darkness. Pray for night
Which gives you love. And falling angel
Will read the poems just for you.
The last damn poet counts days and
Believes in dreams which should come true.
The sky is ours, my dear.
We'll live in it forever and
It should be blue. It should be clear.
The real love has no end.
I spill the blood in scary battle
Against the death, and falling stars
Are killing me. They broke nutshell.
They broke my heart and closed the eyes
Of man with sword. And now, dear,
My soul lives without fear.
And you, I know, near, near...
And sky is blue. And sky is clear.