A multitude of symphonies echo in my being The world around me unraveling At incredible speed

I will live through my 25th spring this year In the background War has just broken in the East I wish the world had a helm we could easily steer I already long for peace

Why is it we always call pacifists naïve? Like blood and war is rational? As if there’s more honor in killing than in retreat As if all of this bloodshed is unavoidable

I am not the only person distraught At the idea of War needlessly fought Nor am I the only one that sees That this war in the East Is not the forest but the trees

I wish I had a clever line That’d make this alright Magic words I could type That would live up to the pen’s might

But no clever rhyme would make up for the lives lost Or wipe out the risk of impending doom I pray he who seats in his golden throne thinks of the cost Of becoming History’s villain and what will be written on his tomb.

-Slava Ukraini

A multitude of symphonies echo in my being The world around me unraveling At incredible speed

I will live through my 25th spring this year In the background War has just broken in the East I wish the world had a helm we could easily steer I already long for peace

Why is it we always call pacifists naïve? Like blood and war is rational? As if there’s more honor in killing than in retreat As if all of this bloodshed is unavoidable

I am not the only person distraught At the idea of War needlessly fought Nor am I the only one that sees That this war in the East Is not the forest but the trees

I wish I had a clever line That’d make this alright Magic words I could type That would live up to the pen’s might

But no clever rhyme would make up for the lives lost Or wipe out the risk of impending doom I pray he who seats in his golden throne thinks of the cost Of becoming History’s villain and what will be written on his tomb.

-Slava Ukraini