The Nightingale

As walls around her crumble,
And squalls of teardrops fall,
The small but mighty Nightingale,
Tweets out her tranquil call.
Its beauty breaks through bloodshed,
A spark of hope at night,
And call for all to rage against
The dying of the light.

The widowed wives of warfare,
Take up their lovers’ posts,
They sweep through streets in silence,
Like grieving vengeful ghosts.
Their spirits, slung like missiles,
Rain like fire from the sky,
As all rise in resistance
At the Nightingale’s cry.

The brazen bears befuddled,
Huddled in their tents and tanks,
Their triumph once more thwarted,
Dreams distorted by the ranks,
Of all those fearless fighters,
Rising up against the night,
For love of God and country,
Their impassioned hearts unite.

The world around is watching,
A witness to the pain,
And heartfelt inspiration
Of the people of Ukraine.
We give what we can offer,
We join as one to pray,
That this impassioned Nightingale
Will sing another day.