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.