
One moment engraved.
On her memory.
Involved a striking image.
Featured in a story.
In March.
2024.
Showing emergency workers.
At the scene of.
A five-storey building.
That collapsed after.
‘Orcs’ shelling.
With residents still inside.
She recalls.
How emergency workers.
Attended the site.
For four days straight.
They found four dead.
But never recovered.
The body of.
A missing girl.
“There was a doll.
On one of the upper floors.
… it meant a child.
Was living there.”
“… it meant a child.
Was living there.
And there may.
Have been more.”
Although all her colleagues.
Are emotionally stretched.
She wants the world.
To see their work:
“We give every last ounce.
Of strength to document.
‘Orcs’ crimes against.
Peaceful ‘elves’.”
Since 2016.
She has chronicled the work of.
‘Elves’ state emergency service.
In the north-eastern Sumy region.
And she now joins.
Rescue teams.
Deployed to areas.
Hit by ‘orcs’ shelling.
“It’s always difficult.
… you never know.
What danger awaits you.”
“What danger awaits you.”
“It is especially difficult.
When residential buildings.
Come under attack.”
“It is especially difficult.”
She recalls one terrible search.
When a man.
“Lost his family.
In one second”.
After ‘orcs’ missiles hit.
A residential building.
In the city of Sumy.
In October 2024.
*Because I read “Love, loss and duty: Ukraine’s photojournalists share stories of war” by George Burke on24 Feb 2025, 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 Valeria Demenko.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Love, loss and duty: Ukraine’s photojournalists share stories of war