‘It’s only the Red King
snoring,’ said Tweedledee.
‘Come and look at him!’
the brothers cried,
and they took each one of
Alice’s hands,
and led her up to where
the King was sleeping.
‘Isn’t he a lovely sight?’
said Tweedledum.
Alice couldn’t say
honestly that he was.
He had a tall
red night-cap on,
with a tassel, and
he was lying crumpled up
into a sort of untidy heap,
and snoring loud
– ‘fit to snore his head off!’
as Tweedledum remarked.
‘I’m afraid he’ll catch cold
with lying on the damp grass,’
said Alice, who was
a very thoughtful little girl.
‘Elves’ emergency services.
Have continued to recover.
bodies from under rubble.
In Kyiv.
After ‘orcs’ hit the city.
With a huge missile and.
Drone attack overnight.
Into Tuesday.
At least 28 people.
Have been killed.
And more than 100 injured.
Officials said.
As the death toll increased.
On Wednesday.
After having been revised.
Several times.
Both upwards.
And downwards.
There were also two fatalities.
In Odesa.
‘He’s dreaming now,’
said Tweedledee:
‘and what do you think
he’s dreaming about?’
Alice said, ‘Nobody
can guess that.’
‘Why, about you!’
Tweedledee exclaimed,
As part of the strikes.
A drone smashed into.
An apartment block.
Destroying dozens of flats.
The attack was among.
The biggest on the capital.
Since the start of.
‘Orcs’ full-scale war.
With ‘elves’ interior minister.
Saying the country had been.
Hit by 440 drones.
And 32 missiles.
‘Orcs’ defence ministry said.
It had targeted.
‘Elves’ military-industrial complexes.
And that all its targets had been hit.
The strikes on Kyiv.
Lasted more than nine hours.
– sending residents fleeing.
To underground shelters.
From before midnight.
Until after sunrise.
From before midnight.
Until after sunrise.
clapping his hands triumphantly.
‘And if he left off
dreaming about you,
where do you suppose you’d be?’
‘Where I am now,
of course,’ said Alice.
‘Not you!’ Tweedledee
retorted contemptuously.
Officials said a ballistic missile.
Hit a nine-storey apartment building.
In the southwestern.
Solomyanskyi district.
– bodies continued.
To be recovered.
From the site.
On Wednesday.
A total of 27 locations.
In the city.
Came under fire.
According to authorities.
A 62-year-old.
US citizen was.
Among those killed.
In Solomyanskyi.
Among those killed.
In Solomyanskyi.
Kyiv’s Mayor said.
Early on Tuesday.
The US State Department Spokesperson.
Later confirmed.
The “tragic death” of.
An American citizen.
‘You’d be nowhere.
Why, you’re only
a sort of thing
in his dream!’
‘If that there King was to wake,’
added Tweedledum,
‘you’d go out – bang! –
just like a candle!’
Standing in front of.
The remains of the building.
Kyiv’s Mayor said.
More than 40 apartments.
Had been destroyed.
And more people might be.
Trapped under the rubble.
Trapped under the rubble.
He accused ‘Mordor’ of.
Firing cluster bomblets.
Filled with ball bearings to kill.
As many people as possible.
“Waking up in utter nightmare:
People trapped under rubble.
And full buildings collapsed.”
One ‘elf’ MP wrote on Tuesday.
The Interior Minister said.
That a variety of buildings.
Had come under.
‘Orcs’ attack.
‘Orcs’ attack.
Including residential.
Critical infrastructure.
And educational facilities.
‘I shouldn’t!’
Alice exclaimed indignantly.
‘Besides, if I’m only
a sort of thing
in his dream,
what are you,
I should like to know?’
‘Ditto,’ said Tweedledum.
People were still.
Under the rubble.
By late afternoon.
On Tuesday.
And rescue work was.
Going on at two sites.
He explained that.
Initial mistakes made.
In counting the dead.
Often happened.
Because body parts were.
Wrongly identified.
‘Ditto, ditto!’ cried Tweedledee.
He shouted this
so loud that Alice
couldn’t help saying,
‘Hush! You’ll be
waking him,
I’m afraid,
if you make so much noise.’
Loud explosions.
Rocked the city.
In the early hours.
Of Tuesday.
Along with the rattle of.
The machine guns used by.
Mobile ‘elves’ air defence units.
To shoot down drones.
More sirens later.
In the morning.
Disrupted rescue operations.
In the city.
Hampering emergency workers.
Searching the rubble.
For survivors.
For survivors.
‘Well, it’s no use your talking
about waking him,’
said Tweedledum,
‘when you’re only
one of the things
in his dream.
You know very well
you’re not real.’
‘Mordor’ has intensified.
Its air attacks.
Against ‘elves’ cities.
In recent weeks.
With a tactic of sending.
Large waves of drones and.
Decoys designed to overwhelm.
‘Elves’ air defences.
Kyiv has launched.
Attacks of its own.
As direct talks between.
The warring sides failed.
As direct talks between.
The warring sides failed.
To secure a ceasefire.
Or significant breakthrough.
‘I am real!’ said Alice,
and began to cry.
‘I am real!’ said Alice,
and began to cry.
‘You won’t make yourself
a bit realler by crying,’
Tweedledee remarked:
‘there’s nothing to cry about.’
‘Gandalf the Green’ called.
‘Orcs’ most recent.
Wave of strikes.
“Pure terrorism”.
He accused ‘the One’ of.
Carrying out the large-scale strikes.
“Solely because he can.
Afford to continue this war”.
“It is bad when.
The powerful of this world.
Turn a blind eye to this.”
He said, adding:
“It is the terrorists.
Who should feel the pain.
Not normal.
Peaceful people.”
‘If I wasn’t real,’ Alice said
– half-laughing through her tears,
it all seemed so ridiculous –
‘I shouldn’t be able to cry.’
‘I hope you don’t suppose
those are real tears?’
Tweedledum interrupted
in a tone of great contempt.
A man was standing.
At a line of police tape.
That separated the public.
From the intensive search.
From the intensive search.
And rescue operation.
Around his building.
Around his building.
He stared up at what was.
Left of his apartment.
In a suburb of.
The ‘elves’ capital Kyiv.
His windows had disappeared.
His balcony was.
On the verge.
Of collapse.
Below, personal belongings.
Were strewn.
Across the pathways.
Across the pathways.
Bedsheets and.
Towels hung from.
The branches of trees.
The branches of trees.
‘He’s dreaming now,’
said Tweedledee:
‘and what do you think
he’s dreaming about?’
Alice said, ‘Nobody
can guess that.’
‘Why, about you!’
Tweedledee exclaimed,
A cruise missile.
Slammed into.
This ordinary residential block.
In the Solomianskyi neighbourhood.
In the early hours.
Of Tuesday morning.
Likely travelling.
At about 500mph.
The blast destroyed.
35 apartments and.
Hollowed out an entire section.
Of the building.
clapping his hands triumphantly.
‘And if he left off
dreaming about you,
where do you suppose you’d be?’
‘Where I am now,
of course,’ said Alice.
‘Not you!’ Tweedledee
retorted contemptuously.
By Wednesday afternoon.
23 people had been.
Found dead.
In the rubble.
Across Ukraine.
At least 30 were known.
To have been killed.
In the attacks.
All but two of them.
In Kyiv.
All but two of them.
In Kyiv.
‘You’d be nowhere.
Why, you’re only
a sort of thing
in his dream!’
‘If that there King was to wake,’
added Tweedledum,
‘you’d go out – bang! –
just like a candle!’
The air strike.
on his building was.
Just one of.
A huge wave.
Sent by ‘Mordor’.
– a total of more than.
440 drones and.
32 missiles.
The barrage smashed.
The capital for nine hours.
From midnight.
Until well past dawn.
It was among the worst attacks.
On Kyiv.
Since the full-scale invasion.
Of Ukraine began.
‘I shouldn’t!’
Alice exclaimed indignantly.
‘Besides, if I’m only
a sort of thing
in his dream,
what are you,
I should like to know?’
‘Ditto,’ said Tweedledum.
He, a 43-year-old.
Warehouse worker.
Looked down from.
His wrecked apartment.
His face was cut.
And grazed all over.
And one of his eyes.
Was severely bloodshot.
He could not see.
Out of it.
He was in bed.
When the missile hit.
His elderly mother was.
asleep in the next room.
“There was heat.
Fire, and smoke.”
He said, recalling.
The huge impact.
Just metres.
From his wall.
“I lost consciousness.
When I came to.
I heard.
My mother screaming.”
‘Ditto, ditto!’ cried Tweedledee.
He shouted this
so loud that Alice
couldn’t help saying,
‘Hush! You’ll be
waking him,
I’m afraid,
if you make so much noise.’
Neighbours helped him.
Knock out his warped door.
And get his mother.
Out of the apartment.
Other survivors were.
Emerging into.
The remains of.
The shattered building.
“People were screaming.
Children were crying.”
Said a pensioner, 60.
“It was total chaos.”
Outside, the residents.
Tried to find.
A safe route through.
Burning cars and falling debris.
“Everything was on fire.
Said a teacher, 69.
“The fuel tanks.
In the cars were exploding.”
“Broken glass was.
Pouring from above.
Along with pieces of.
Concrete and tiles.”
‘Well, it’s no use your talking
about waking him,’
said Tweedledum,
‘when you’re only
one of the things
in his dream.
You know very well
you’re not real.’
The warehouse worker’s.
Mother was rushed.
To intensive care.
With two broken collarbones.
Cuts to both her eyes.
And severe damage.
To her internal organs.
That required surgery.
She was one of.
More than 100 wounded.
In the city.
At around midnight.
The anesthesiologist.
And director of.
The 12th Kyiv City Clinical Hospital.
Felt the strikes begin.
Within hours.
His hospital alone would.
Receive 27 patients.
He said.
‘I am real!’ said Alice,
and began to cry.
‘I am real!’ said Alice,
and began to cry.
‘You won’t make yourself
a bit realler by crying,’
Tweedledee remarked:
‘there’s nothing to cry about.’
“They had soft tissue injuries.
Lacerations from.
Broken glass.
Damage to blood vessels.”
“There were traumatic.
Brain injuries and.
Internal chest injuries.
One had a severed femoral artery.”
“– we were able to.
Repair it.
The worst was a woman.
With open head injury.”
“These are the kinds.
Of injuries we see.
From these kinds.
Of attacks.”
‘If I wasn’t real,’ Alice said
– half-laughing through her tears,
it all seemed so ridiculous –
‘I shouldn’t be able to cry.’
‘I hope you don’t suppose
those are real tears?’
Tweedledum interrupted
in a tone of great contempt.
The patients at his hospital.
Ranged from.
18 to 95.
He said.
Three were in their 90s.
Strikes like these.
On residential buildings.
Can be particularly dangerous.
For the elderly.
And infirm.
Who cannot easily dash.
To an underground shelter.
‘Well, it’s no use your talking
about waking him,’
said Tweedledum,
‘when you’re only
one of the things
in his dream.
You know very well
you’re not real.’
A disabled man, 64.
Whose apartment was also.
Close to the impact point.
Could not make it to the shelter.
He lay in bed.
Terrified throughout.
He lay in bed.
An hour after the attack.
He was able to slowly make.
His way downstairs.
“It was terrible.
Everything was destroyed.”
Some of those.
Whose apartments were severely.
Damaged were able to.
Find shelter.
With friends or relatives.
Others were not so fortunate.
“This is all I have.”
He said.
‘I am real!’ said Alice,
and began to cry.
‘I am real!’ said Alice,
and began to cry.
‘You won’t make yourself
a bit realler by crying,’
Tweedledee remarked:
‘there’s nothing to cry about.’
The strikes hit Ukraine.
As ‘Gandalf the Green’.
Was travelling to.
the G7 conference.
In Canada.
To meet world leaders.
Some in Ukraine suspect that.
The timing was intentional.
– a brutal message.
From ‘Mordor’.
– a brutal message.
From ‘Mordor’.
The scale of the attack.
Underscored ‘elves’ desperate need.
For international support.
Including increased air defences.
‘If I wasn’t real,’ Alice said
– half-laughing through her tears,
it all seemed so ridiculous –
‘I shouldn’t be able to cry.’
‘I hope you don’t suppose
those are real tears?’
Tweedledum interrupted
in a tone of great contempt.
But in the end.
It would prove to be.
An unsuccessful day.
For ‘Gandalf the Green’.
His much anticipated.
Bilateral meeting with.
The US President evaporated.
As the strikes were happening.
When the US President.
Announced he would leave.
The conference early amid.
The crisis in the Middle East.
With the US President not present.
A meeting of European leaders.
On Ukraine failed to produce.
A joint statement of support.
For the country.
– a statement that was.
Much-hoped for.
On the ‘elves’ side.
‘If I wasn’t real,’ Alice said
– half-laughing through her tears,
it all seemed so ridiculous –
‘I shouldn’t be able to cry.’
‘I hope you don’t suppose
those are real tears?’
Tweedledum interrupted
in a tone of great contempt.
As ‘Gandalf the Green’.
Travelled home.
From Canada.
On Wednesday.
People from around.
The Solomianskyi neighbourhood.
People from around.
The Solomianskyi neighbourhood.
In south-west Kyiv.
gathered to lay flowers.
At the site of.
The cruise missile attack.
Police wouldn’t let.
The warehouse worker.
Pass the line of tape.
To retrieve.
His and his mother’s possessions.
From their shattered apartment.
So he just stood.
And stared.
A hundred feet away.
Emergency workers had just.
Found two more bodies.
In the rubble.
They did not know.
How many more.
They would find.
They would find.
‘He’s dreaming now,’
said Tweedledee:
‘and what do you think
he’s dreaming about?’
Alice said, ‘Nobody
can guess that.’
‘Why, about you!’
Tweedledee exclaimed,
clapping his hands triumphantly.
‘And if he left off
dreaming about you,
where do you suppose you’d be?’
‘Where I am now,
of course,’ said Alice.
‘Not you!’ Tweedledee
retorted contemptuously.
‘You’d be nowhere.
Why, you’re only
a sort of thing
in his dream!’
‘If that there King was to wake,’
added Tweedledum,
‘you’d go out – bang! –
just like a candle!’
*Because I read “Death toll rises after Russia’s deadliest attack on Kyiv for months” by Joel Gunter & Jessica Rawnsley on 18 Jun 2025, “After a night of terror in Kyiv, the search for dead goes on” by Joel Gunter on 19 Jun 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, including a story of Povarenkov, a story of Arcadiy, a story of Alla, a story of Dr Dubrov, and a story of Bondarchuk, led by ‘THROUGH the LOOKING-GLASS’ written by Lewis Carroll, you know.
Please read the original stories on the BBC news:
Russia’s deadliest attack on Kyiv for months flattens part of apartment block
After a night of terror in Kyiv, the search for dead goes on
