On The Wings of Hope : Prose

Much like this very gas is being used now, leaving a circle of death through many miles around. And this was just one of the tools of murder along with a set of others, beginning from bullets, filled with explosive materials and finishing with “stakkers” - bombs with weight of up to several hundred tons, that were actively used for suppression of “areas of active enemy resistance”, leaving only a burning territory with no signs of life after droppings ...

Total madness. Madness of war. Madness of those, started the war. A witness of what other horrors will he become for the duration of war? And is there is a slimmest chance for it to stop? When will it come to an end - when all life and lifeless forces of enemy ... enemies are destroyed? When all remnants of life, which are still remaining, will finally be totally deformed? When?

But this must come to an end at last! Madness should be ended.

A shell, scratched the armoring of his suite - series of rifle's bullets, which have left hems on his “survival suit”. A soldier of the enemy, who jumped from round a corner all of a sudden. A soldier of the enemy ... another madness. No, they are not enemies, they shouldn't be as such! Why enemies, why foes, why are they compelled to kill each other?

Why now he must sharply move towards the incoming shots with a perfected grace ... prepare his gun for a strike ... wait for this damned and dreadful mechanics to make an approval signal ... smoothly press a trigger cock ... observe, how a face on his enemy changes from a wild grin to a human shape for an instant, and how he heavily falls to the ground, without even a last single sound. He used to be a man once ... now, in this war - whether he has been him still? And whether is he still a man? Robots, brought and trained for murders, are men in this war have become exactly them?

Drops of water, transferred to him by that iron-plastic armor, which he was compelled to dress -he'll definitely need those few drops. A long run awaits him - a run for tens and thousands of kilometers, a run away from his native city, which has been raised by enemies,  a city in which he was born and has been living ... till the recent events.

A run through the fields of grief. A very long one ...

* * *

Drop of sweat, showed on a face. Sharp and faltering breath.

He woke up, yet horrific images were still trying to pursue him. Terrible pictures of war - pictures of terrible war. Dreadful pictures, for any war brings with itself fear and pain, grief and regret.

He began to gradually come to his senses. Sighted deeply and exhaled. Sighted once more and exhaled again - breath was normalizing. He was coming to senses, yet the memory of horrors didn’t desire to leave. Maybe he should remember - remember the consequences of war, realize them? As each and every man has to realize them - so that wars can be no more? So that a peace with a capital letter can reign in a world - a world of kind and open human hearts, full of wisdom and understanding, filled with love and beauty? Yes, war has no right to exist - as well as death and destruction, bitterness of losses and hatred to artificially made enemies, brought by it.

Let there be peace - a peace throughout the entire world, no matter how banal it does sound. Even if it sounds banal - it’s still a worthy direction and aspiration, and a work of each man over himself will give birth to essential steps - essential steps in this way. A way of peace.

13.04.2011

The Majority

Step. And again. And again. In such minutes every moment becomes the eternity.

Ten steps to scaffold top. Nine. Eight. Seven.

Yes, he is both the criminal and the traitor. Yes, he would repeat the same again.

Where does the moment ends and the eternity begins ? Six. Five. Four.

Where does life of one ends, so that others can live on ? Three.

No one can escape its destiny and hide from it, nowhere. Two.

And in the moment of own death it’s only possible to accept it with gratitude. One.

To die and to live in the eternity. The top.

He is a traitor for one, and a hero for another. And there are no intermediate stages. How much does a human’s life cost and who will dare to measure it ? Who will judge of the unknown destiny of which he has not a slightest idea ? Who will extol you as the hero and overthrow in a chasm of damnations later ? Who will make this all only because he can do no other ?

The Majority.

Yes, he is the murderer – and the savior simultaneously. Angel and a demon in one person.

The life of one for lifes of many. And no other choice is possible here.

And that is why he is the criminal.

The life of the president of home country, who has almost plunged the world into a nuclear apocalypse – it’s not  that much for the world to live on.

And that is why he is the hero.

The former faithful companion and the right hand, who once realized what the left hand is going to make. The one chosen the most radical way to stop the ongoing madness – for no other measures were capable to help.