By Pavel Chichikov
Bitterly he pointed to the cross
'He saved us for eternity, they teach –
The living know in silence what they've lost
The dead ones have eternity to preach'
'Who is it you're afraid of, tell me where
Can they be coming from – thin air?'
We don't know who they are but they can take
The sun away, kill some, the others break
'A lot of us go missing one by one
The city is diminishing, and no
One knows who's going next, it's done
And nothing can prevent them, keep them out'
'But who are they – outsiders? – are they armed
Invaders from a foreign country – thieves?'
'No one knows the answer, friend,' he said
'But we go up in smoke, like burning leaves
'No one's ever seen them, yet we feel
Their presence in our terror and our will –
No one knows what happens when they steal
Me or you – or God invisible'
Just then in a moment, as he paused
He leaned intently toward the door – 'they're here,
If you make a sound or if you don't
They'll catch you, full of courage, full of fear'
He shuddered, turning sallow, then relaxed
'I'll show you what they've done, please follow me'
Unbolting all the locks he led me out
Another door was open, swinging free
We entered in a hurry and we saw
No one there and violence in the scene,
Dishes broken shards, the table smashed
Clawed gouges in the floor, as of a fiend
'And yet I didn't hear a sound, did you?'
I asked. Dejectedly he turned –
'There's never any trace, they disappear
Entirely, they might as well have burned'
The Shoulder of the Sun Part Seven will be featured tomorrow.
To visit Pavel Chichikov's website click *here*
