WAKA is 'the music of the Primes'.

At dawn one morning.

You drive towards.

The battlefield outside.

The city of Pokrovsk.

 

Fields of dried sunflowers.

Line the sides of the roads.

There is barely any cover.

And so you drive.

 

At breakneck speed.

In order to protect.

Yourselves against.

‘Orcs’ drone attacks.

 

You hear loud explosions.

As you near the front line.

At an ‘elves’ artillery position.

A soldier fires.

 

A soldier fires.

A Soviet-era artillery gun.

It emits.

A deafening sound.

 

And blows dust.

And dried leaves.

Off the ground.

He runs to shelter.

 

In an underground bunker.

Keeping safe.

From ‘orcs’ retaliation.

And waiting for.

 

And waiting for.

The coordinates of.

The next ‘elves’ strike.

“‘Orcs’ have more.”

 

“Manpower and weapons.

And they send their men.

Onto the battlefield.

Like they’re canon fodder.”

 

But he knows that.

If Pokrovsk falls.

It could open a gateway.

To the Dnipro region.

 

– just 32km.

From Pokrovsk –

And their job will become.

Even more difficult.

 

“Yes, we are tired.

– and many of our men.

Have died and.

Been wounded –”

 

“But we have to fight.”

“But we have to fight.

Otherwise the result.

Will be catastrophic.”

 

 

*Because I read “Fighting Russia – and low morale – on Ukraine’s ‘most dangerous front line’” by Yogita Limaye on 14 Oct 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, including a story of Vadym.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:

Ukraine’s fierce battle to defend the eastern city of Potrovsk (bbc.com)