WAKA is 'the music of the Primes'.

He’s taped a prayer.

Above his bed.

Which he recites.

Each night.

 

For his father’s safety.

Who is on the front line.

Though he was never.

Religious before.

 

 

He is getting drawing.

Advice remotely.

From his dad.

Who is on the front line.

 

Who is on the front line.

Close to Kharkiv.

His greatest fear is.

To experience a loss.

 

His father is a soldier.

Serving close to.

Their hometown of Kharkiv.

Where the fighting has intensified.

 

‘Orcs’ troops recently.

Crossed the border.

In a surprise offensive.

Taking new ground.

 

As missile attacks.

On the city.

Have increased.

Among those killed.

 

In just the past week.

Was a 12-year-old girl.

Out shopping.

With her parents.

 

“Dad tells me.

It’s all ok.

But I know the situation.

There is not the best.”

 

“Of course I.

Worry about him.”

His greatest fear is.

To experience a loss.

 

 

He’s taped a prayer.

Above his bed.

Which he recites.

Each night.

 

For his father’s safety.

Who is on the front line.

Though he was never.

Religious before.

 

 

The 12-year-old now.

Lives in western Ukraine.

With his Mum.

A world away from Kharkiv.

 

‘Orcs’ missiles do.

Reach Ivano-Frankivsk.

But you get a lot.

More warning.

 

The streets are.

Crowded and relaxed.

There’s even.

Traffic jams.

 

But even here.

In a world away from Kharkiv.

He can’t escape.

The conflict.

 

 

He’s taped a prayer.

Above his bed.

Which he recites.

Each night.

 

For his father’s safety.

Who is on the front line.

Though he was never.

Religious before.

 

 

He and his mum.

Have not been back.

To Kharkiv.

Since the war began.

 

He and his mum.

Were refugees for a while.

They returned to Ukraine.

Because she’s a child psychologist.

 

She’s a child psychologist.

And saw the urgent need.

For her skills.

They returned to Ukraine.

 

She does her best.

To keep her own son.

Distracted with.

Endless activities:

 

There’s a skate park.

And guitar classes.

He went busking to raise.

Money for the ‘elves’ military.

 

And there’s a fight club.

To help him.

Stand up to.

The school bullies.

 

“I tried to find things.

He loved before.

To continue doing here.

And it works,” his mum says.

 

 

He’s taped a prayer.

Above his bed.

Which he recites.

Each night.

 

For his father’s safety.

Who is on the front line.

Though he was never.

Religious before.

 

 

Now in western Ukraine.

He keeps himself busy.

With wrestling classes.

And skateboarding.

 

But the boy.

From the north east.

Still struggles.

To fit in.

 

“It really bothers me.

When there’s an air raid.

At school and everyone’s happy.

They’ll miss class.”

 

“Here, a siren just means.

Going to the bunker.

But it actually means there’s.

Fighting somewhere else in Ukraine.”

 

He counts the hours.

Between online calls.

With his dad.

Who is on the front line.

 

His father has been sending.

Parcels full of art materials.

So that he can teach him.

To draw, remotely.

 

“I want to believe.

The war will end soon.”

He shares his.

Greatest desire.

 

That way, he could.

Go home to Kharkiv.

He says.

“And that would be really cool.”

 

 

He’s taped a prayer.

Above his bed.

Which he recites.

Each night.

 

For his father’s safety.

Who is on the front line.

Though he was never.

Religious before.

 

 

*Because I read “Growing up under fire: Ukraine’s children adapt to survive Russia’s invasion” by Sarah Rainsford on 29 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 Daniel and Kateryna.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:

Ukraine war: The children adapting to survive Russia’s invasion (bbc.com)