On The Wings of Hope : Prose

Fyodor :- No need for sorrowful accord, I had to live in other world.

V.V.P. :- Oh well, perhaps, but let us stop - or soon we will be on the top until at least the end of day … I find it hard to rhyme, I say!

Fyodor :- And I find funny it for now … what shall we tell to them and how?

V.V.P. :- Oh, we will see the picture vile, how Russian bear gets exiled; how dies a foe from overseas; how British flag gets sunk in freeze; how Jews returned all western walls to Arabs nations with to tolls; how Europe-Russia did unite, and Balts unable to spread blight; how N of prophecies came true; how temples ruined without glue; how politicians got mad and eat now only stale bread; and how the Newest Epoch comes and we are hitting in the drums!

Fyodor :- You are a poet, friend, as well … to find a better job you shall!

V.V.P. :- I’ve got such laurels, what to say? But where were you along the way?

Fyodor :- I got frozen in the cold, that is what my soul told.

V.V.P. :- A winter of soul? Is summer a goal?

Fyodor :- It was delayed, I was afraid. But hope I do - will sky turn blue, and Sun of God will come in world.

V.V.P. :- To be a light in darkest night? This world is full of hatred, blight!

Fyodor :- Don’t be afraid, find strength to fly - the jackal will just howl and die!

V.V.P. :- Already howling, do you hear? The days of answer coming near.

Fyodor :- Such is the century and time … we have forgotten what is prime, in darkness many washed and stayed, and path to God they have betrayed.

V.V.P. :- That’s just what we are showing you! The years passed will now be few, and world will clear from the sin, and will emerge like submarine.

Fyodor :- How gothic is that your prediction … it is so fine and not a fiction! To clear in light we have because the God is knocking at the doors!

V.V.P. :- And one will find Him, being ready … let’s watch the topic, friend, already?

Fyodor :- All right, Vladimir, play your part! Prepare to watch, let’s give a start!

V.V.P. :- A time of wonders is approaching, and gentle souls Spirit’s touching …

Fyodor :- Such events take the place just once … think wider, our TV fans!

A camera in television studio moves somewhere sideways and upwards, at first displaying the vicinities of some city from height of a bird’s flight, and then sharply dives downwards and panoramas of various small streets are revealed before televiewers. Small streets quickly replace one another as camera continues its sharp dive there-here for rounds, moving at level of the third-fourth floors of buildings. Strangely enough, all streets look deserted - not a single wandering soul can be seen along it. All common crowd activity has gone somewhere, thousands of men and women as if have vanished from the city, and a din, so traditional for megacities, has totally broken off. Cars are parked in some chaotic manner along the edges of streets - some of them, were apparently hastily abandoned, - their doors are wide open,  however no one aspires to take hold of another’s vehicle. City system of illumination and traffic light still work, however one cannot observe any visible movement at all. As if the city died out all of a sudden - definitively and irrevocably.

Fyodor :- Oh my, what’s going there on? Some time ago they dreamed of throne - but now all hidden like the rats … perhaps they’ve seen some giant cats?

V.V.P. :- This is New York … or bestiary? Reminds me of the mortuary … all people left the streets for good … oh no, this ain’t Hollywood!

Fyodor :- Who record this to be then shown?

V.V.P. :- It’s operator, who has flown!

Fyodor :- Oh my! A man can soar like bird?

V.V.P. :- And do much more of that sort!

Fyodor :- With proper faith we all can fly and join thus the life of sky?

V.V.P. :- A couple is already soaring … and trust my word, this isn’t boring.