A Victim Of The Sky Poem by Ruslan Kerimov

A victim of the sky

I

Moscow’s outskirts, a drizzling day,
An old man strolls in the park,
Coniferous scent, pines guide his way,
The branches of the trees are stark.
Despite the rain he walks his dog,
The pine grove, though, immerged in fog
He comes across a dreadful scene,
Before he’s hardly ever seen:
A torn-off leg hangs on a tree,
A mangled body, clotting blood,
That was a sight too hard to see
Too hard to bear for aged heart.

Police came soon to the location
To start its prompt investigation,
Investigator was confused:
What weapons did the killer use
The victim’s flesh to rip and tear?
One should be stronger than a bear,
To slay his victim on a tree,
There’s something wrong, it cannot be,
Who could have killed this wretched teen?
His face looks young, about fifteen,
Maybe, the boy fell from the sky?
Yet human beings don’t fly!

II

A poor province, a shabby dwelling,
Dim lamp illuminates the room
The paint peels off the walls and ceiling
The flowers in the pot don’t bloom
A worn-out carpet on the floor,
A rusty heater warms the place,
The wind knocks fiercely on the door
Just like a criminal thrilled by chase
The puppy huddles on the chair
The smaller brothers play with toys
And mother has a wistful air,
Is not at home the eldest boy.

Last time she saw him in the morning
“I need to find a job”, he said
He didn’t take his mother’s warning:
“Don’t go too far, my son”, she bade.
Yet to the airport he bent his way,
And quickened his teenager pace
For better life long miles away
From this dilapidating place.
His father was an invalid.
His broken mother unemployed,
Despite, for them her best she did
Her hope of future was destroyed.

III

And no one noticed how he stole
Into the chassis of the plane
The engines roared, the white machine
Took off swan-gliding from the lane.
Became so small the roads, the houses,
The cars moved slow like tiny louses
So close became almighty Lord,
And cutting air like a sword,
The plane rose high above the clouds,
Above the rains, above the pains,
Above all suffering and doubts,
Above both luxury and chains.

The Sky, how many lives you’ve taken?
What is the number of sky toll?
How many hopes you have forsaken,
I doubt you can remember all
Some died in bloody air fights
Some died in air accidents,
In vain, engulfed by fear and fright,
They raised in prayer their hands
This time you’ve had a useless prey
To join the kingdom of the dead,
He hasn’t seen his better days,
A victim to a piece of bread.

“Dear passengers”, the pilot said,
“Hope, all of you enjoyed the flight,
Please, fasten belts, make seats upright,
In twenty minutes we will land.”
And then was heard the chassis’ sound,
The chamber opened, down to the ground
The frozen body freely flied,
And no one knew that he had died.
The airport, the happy faces,
The smiles, the kisses, the embraces
‘Cause life goes on, ‘twill never stop,
One single life is just a drop.