WAKA is 'the music of the Primes'.

She travels to.

Front-line villages.

To try and evacuate residents.

At risk of ‘orcs’ fire.

 

‘Mordor’ has been on the offensive.

In the Kharkiv oblast.

Or province, since its forces.

Crossed the border on 10 May.

 

 

You followed her and her minibus.

Into the border area.

Staying well clear.

Of Vovchansk.

 

The frontier town.

At the centre of.

The current fighting that is.

Being reduced to rubble.

 

Even from a few miles away.

It looked like a hell-hole.

With angry grey clouds.

And columns of smoke.

 

Rising high from a series.

Of big fires and black smoke.

Spiralling and twisting into.

The sky from fresh explosions.

 

 

She travels to.

Front-line villages.

To try and evacuate residents.

At risk of ‘orcs’ fire.

 

‘Mordor’ has been on the offensive.

In the Kharkiv oblast.

Or province, since its forces.

Crossed the border on 10 May.

 

 

The first woman.

On her list was.

Ready to leave.

The border area.

 

The woman’s dog.

Chained near its kennel.

In the front yard.

Barked at the strangers.

 

As she helped the woman.

Carry out her possessions.

Packed into.

A few shopping bags.

 

The dog calmed down.

As the woman unchained it.

And took it.

Into the minibus.

 

“I encourage them to.

Bring their pets,” she said.

“When you lose everything.

Having a pet is a comfort.”

 

“My soul hurts.

I’ve lived in this house.

For more than.

40 years.”

 

The first woman said.

Squashed into the bus.

With her dog.

And her luggage.

 

Was she leaving?

Because of the shelling?

“Of course!

It was so close.”

 

“Of course!

It was so close.

Less than 100 metres.

All my windows blew out.”

 

 

She travels to.

Front-line villages.

To try and evacuate residents.

At risk of ‘orcs’ fire.

 

‘Mordor’ has been on the offensive.

In the Kharkiv oblast.

Or province, since its forces.

Crossed the border on 10 May.

 

 

She banged on.

A solid metal gate.

An old woman.

Opened it a crack.

 

When the old woman.

And her husband.

Somewhere inside.

Out of sight.

 

When the next people.

On her list.

Refused to go.

She tried to change their minds.

 

“Yesterday there was.

Shelling near you.

It’s very dangerous.

You are putting yourself in danger.”

 

“We have volunteers.

Who will help you move in.

They will help you.

Apply for benefits.”

 

“Medications and everything else.

It will all be free.

And you’ll have.

Psychological assistance.”

 

“Thank you! Thank you for everything.

But I won’t go.”

“Look, we’re evacuating people.

Because it’s a critical moment.”

 

“If you want.

You can return.

“But now, it is very dangerous here.

With shelling every hour or two.”

 

“It’s better to leave.

There will be more shelling.

And more hits.

It’s dangerous here.”

 

“I know.” “It’s free!

You’ll get free housing.”

“I won’t go.”

The old woman closed the gate.

 

 

She travels to.

Front-line villages.

To try and evacuate residents.

At risk of ‘orcs’ fire.

 

‘Mordor’ has been on the offensive.

In the Kharkiv oblast.

Or province, since its forces.

Crossed the border on 10 May.

 

 

*Because I read “Jeremy Bowen: Ukraine faces its worst crisis since the war began” by Jeremy Bowen on 28 May 2024, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem, as a story of Vika, Liubov and Emma.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:

Ukraine war: Kharkiv targeted as Russia grows in strength (bbc.com)