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Please lend me thee a borrowed psalm Of some kind of light Leaking through an open palm Where the wires bite ... I've dug myself a chapel grave Had to hammer down the sky that I couldn't save If the iron keeps its name and time I get to wear another face and call it mine Find myself a smoking gate Near-broken hymn to separate That's what you get counting a name In ****** mud where nameless came I ride the spine of St. Kateryna's wheel On a single spark No hand to bless or heal me now Just fire spun in dark And in that gate an ember glows A face half-seen, ash never goes And this is what remains of men: Husks, no breath, that pass again At last the choosing comes It always comes with thunder Some keep their souls in jars Some bury them down under They bolt the bunker's mouth Till lungs eat lime and plaster The hills keep splitting wide With every heart-beat faster I'm old enough, friend Too many Aprils bled to end So take the mask And wear the face that the war has given Because you're finally hallowed, friend I've watched the fields all turn to pain Locusts flying, spun-glass and copper rain Saw Kevlar saints sing marching by And blood like Pascal wine along the plain I saw a market bloom and flare With wicker crates of green and morning prayer Then Heaven stooped its iron head Breaking the square, bits flying through the air The saints came dressed in bleached-blonde white With coins and carrots bright Like altar gold Then scarlet petals filled up the night The bells of Easter all turned cold A flame burns far behind my eyes for those I couldn't keep from smoking stones They whisper light like flutterbyes Making homes inside my bones And somewhere far behind the smoke The candles still burn blue For all the hands I used to hold And cannot carry through A veil, a bell, a springtime name, Cathedral walls are whispering flame And every shell that splits the night Leaves another blight burned on my sight I ride the spine of St. Kateryna's wheel On a single spark No hand to bless or heal me now Just fire spun in dark They taught us how to love By teaching what to bury The faces that we shove The letters that we carry We do not fire for hate That acid drank us empty We fire for sleeping homes Where children yet breathe gently We learned that wrath is putrid rain That falls upon the heart That brews it first Dead men feel no other's pain But hatred feeds the wound And only makes it thirst So now we hold the line For sleeping rooms behind us For schoolbooks, bread, and Icons, For every hand that signed us Not for the Orcs ahead Who come in waves unending But Kyiv's candles lit Whose flames burn brave, unbending And when the storm has passed And silence floods the craters Life tastes so fiercely sweet It shames the wine of martyrs A laugh erupts too loud Guitars saw into plaster Boot heel strikes spark from stone And every joke comes faster Because if not, you break And fade into the aether So dance with rifle, m8, And laugh yet even faster And in the moonless hours The sky sings all electric No-man’s-land stretched wide To distances tyrannic The angels now have rotor wings And fibre nerves of lightning Death descends from thirty miles Silent and unblinking I was once the patient eye The stillness on the ridgeline Now steel thinks for the hand And ghosts decide the sightline Old knight without his horse I watch a new age gather A trigger ten feet distant And judgment made of data Still somewhere in the din Beyond the smoke and sorrow A stubborn lark keeps singing That dawn still comes tomorrow I ride the spine of St. Kateryna's wheel On a single spark No hand to bless or heal me now Just fire spun in dark [Whisper-sung] I ride the spine of St. Kateryna's wheel On a single spark No hand to bless or heal me now Just fire spun in dark... *
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Mar 29
Mar 29, 2026 at 9:55 PM UTC
Rolling Earth & Big Barrages
Please lend me thee a borrowed psalm Of some kind of light Leaking through an open palm Where the wires bite ... I've dug myself a chapel grave Had to hammer down the sky that I couldn't save If the iron keeps its name and time I get to wear another face and call it mine Find myself a smoking gate Near-broken hymn to separate That's what you get counting a name In ****** mud where nameless came I ride the spine of St. Kateryna's wheel On a single spark No hand to bless or heal me now Just fire spun in dark And in that gate an ember glows A face half-seen, ash never goes And this is what remains of men: Husks, no breath, that pass again At last the choosing comes It always comes with thunder Some keep their souls in jars Some bury them down under They bolt the bunker's mouth Till lungs eat lime and plaster The hills keep splitting wide With every heart-beat faster I'm old enough, friend Too many Aprils bled to end So take the mask And wear the face that the war has given Because you're finally hallowed, friend I've watched the fields all turn to pain Locusts flying, spun-glass and copper rain Saw Kevlar saints sing marching by And blood like Pascal wine along the plain I saw a market bloom and flare With wicker crates of green and morning prayer Then Heaven stooped its iron head Breaking the square, bits flying through the air The saints came dressed in bleached-blonde white With coins and carrots bright Like altar gold Then scarlet petals filled up the night The bells of Easter all turned cold A flame burns far behind my eyes for those I couldn't keep from smoking stones They whisper light like flutterbyes Making homes inside my bones And somewhere far behind the smoke The candles still burn blue For all the hands I used to hold And cannot carry through A veil, a bell, a springtime name, Cathedral walls are whispering flame And every shell that splits the night Leaves another blight burned on my sight I ride the spine of St. Kateryna's wheel On a single spark No hand to bless or heal me now Just fire spun in dark They taught us how to love By teaching what to bury The faces that we shove The letters that we carry We do not fire for hate That acid drank us empty We fire for sleeping homes Where children yet breathe gently We learned that wrath is putrid rain That falls upon the heart That brews it first Dead men feel no other's pain But hatred feeds the wound And only makes it thirst So now we hold the line For sleeping rooms behind us For schoolbooks, bread, and Icons, For every hand that signed us Not for the Orcs ahead Who come in waves unending But Kyiv's candles lit Whose flames burn brave, unbending And when the storm has passed And silence floods the craters Life tastes so fiercely sweet It shames the wine of martyrs A laugh erupts too loud Guitars saw into plaster Boot heel strikes spark from stone And every joke comes faster Because if not, you break And fade into the aether So dance with rifle, m8, And laugh yet even faster And in the moonless hours The sky sings all electric No-man’s-land stretched wide To distances tyrannic The angels now have rotor wings And fibre nerves of lightning Death descends from thirty miles Silent and unblinking I was once the patient eye The stillness on the ridgeline Now steel thinks for the hand And ghosts decide the sightline Old knight without his horse I watch a new age gather A trigger ten feet distant And judgment made of data Still somewhere in the din Beyond the smoke and sorrow A stubborn lark keeps singing That dawn still comes tomorrow I ride the spine of St. Kateryna's wheel On a single spark No hand to bless or heal me now Just fire spun in dark [Whisper-sung] I ride the spine of St. Kateryna's wheel On a single spark No hand to bless or heal me now Just fire spun in dark... *
Awakening
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Mar 29
Mar 29, 2026 at 9:55 PM UTC
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