Pobeda

Unconquerable Victory
Behind the door smolders and squeals:
"Let me in, brothers, for dinner,
I haven't eaten; I am ill;
I am so tired… so tired
Of never-ending clash of war -
For a piece of bread, a slice of meat
I shall love you and be yours…"

But we were plowing humbly,
And Peace commanded our deeds.
We never raved of battle glories -
For Victory we had no need.
Yet so breathtakingly enthralling
The sultry Victory had been,
We could not resist and invited Her,
But after Her Anguish crawled in.

We drank of blood three oceans,
We devoured everything we found.
Victory sang Her stormy songs,
Untamed and wild on the battle ground.
Victory had been winning sweetly,
And Anguish - brining what it could.
So many of us fell for Victory,
Myriads went down for Her good…

The battle ended, and Victory,
Yawning sleepily, set off for home.
And we were left standing astonished,
Celebrating Her… along…
With Anguish…

With Anguish…
With Anguish…