On the Wings of Hope : Prose

Fyodor :- Here’s my thought without catch - for greed of some we need a patch.

V.V.P. :- There are wolves among the lambs …

Fyodor :- In USA wolves built their tombs!

V.V.P. :- Their guns are useless all for now, in own traps they steadily fall.

Fyodor :- When conscience dropped in the urn, the sun’s becoming hot and burn?

V.V.P. :- Whose speech is brutal, full of hate may know what role sun plays in fate.

Fyodor :- Without nature one lives not. What of officials and their sort?

V.V.P. :- I’m afraid they aren’t glad.

Fyodor :- I didn’t get it - what is that?

V.V.P. :- Without money thieves went mad.

Fyodor :- And what of those who stole not much?

V.V.P. :- For their wealth they tried to clutch.

Fyodor :- Can this be seen in color mode?

V.V.P. :- A nice cutscene we have got.

Fyodor :- And that reply is quite unclear.

V.V.P. :- Oh yes, we’ll see, ‘cause it’s quite near.

Camera soars up again, taking off from a zone of black clouds, and sets course for a Moscow. After a short duration still recently black sky suddenly lights up with sunshine, patches of which light starts playing here and there on lens only known to them chords. Through totally short time before televiewers the image of St. Basil’s Cathedrals flows out in a real time, and the panorama of Red Square reveals from a bird’s flight height. It’s clearly visible how along specified square under a military escort all first officials of the state, who have now become the last ones, are moving, spitefully looking around on by no means loyal to them military forces and celebrating people. From the site of aforementioned last ones obscene abuses and promises “to restore justice” can be overheard - what sort of justice they are talking about, however, isn’t known. Escorts periodically kick them, helping to get into the prepared armored vans under encouraging exclamations of standing nearby people. On faces of thieves of Russian State, departing into exile, a totally genuine mix of fear, surprise, melancholy and disappointment can been distinguished. By all means it’s obvious that they surely didn’t expected such sort of ending.

Fyodor :- I see they all now in the run, without power, with no fun?

V.V.P. :- Official fell from all the tops with little help from Russian cops!

Fyodor :- He made a monument of him …

V.V.P. :- It didn’t honored him, it seem.

Fyodor :- His end I think is rather dim …

V.V.P. : - Comedy ended, here’s “fin”.

Fyodor :- He is escaping oversea, but cannot hide and cannot flee.

V.V.P. :- And all good men do live in hope … this inner robbery has stopped.

Fyodor :- And what is that? They are groaning “no” but in Siberia still go?

V.V.P. :- They are leaving Kremlin in the tracks, abusing all with useless “fuck”s!

Fyodor :- I will show nothing like respect before those Kremlin-thieves-sect …

V.V.P. :- They’ve been exiled in distant lands for Russia’s tired of these “bands”.

Fyodor :- What, check and mate? It’s just in time! I’m overjoyed in the rhyme!

V.V.P. :- The second escort do you see?

Fyodor :- These liberals will not get free!

V.V.P. :- Both parties cursing each one, well … and moving now in parallel …

Fyodor :- Just look at how they blame each other! To curses I won’t listen rather!

V.V.P. :- They will have great time together … I will not watch “reunion” rather!

Fyodor :- I have all reasons to believe! Woe to traitors and to thieves …

V.V.P. :- Once common men exiled they, but life now offered mirrored way!

Fyodor :- The Russia’s pillage will not last! Where is the axe from former “past”?

V.V.P. :- Oh no, drop weapons, wars don’t rock!