I just want to live my life. I’m not bothering anyone.

I built this farm from the ground up while my people are bound down. 

I’m proud of my country.

I’m proud of my town. 

Early morning fireworks, nothing to celebrate.

It was impossible to capture and assess all the damages made.

As attacks are made on my estate, the scars on my hands are getting worse. 

Years of preparation I put into this plot of land, undoubtedly I wasn’t the first. 

Ready-Aim-Fire!

Rocket-Armed-Frenzy!

My silo was smited to a pile of rubble that you stumbled on. 

For miles, rockets are used to pummel and they rumble on. 

But should I fight back to get my life back? 

How can I stop this Russian aerial attack? 

Stomachs growl while the hungry masses are howling.

Overpowering destruction silences the flowering. 

Thousands of tons of grain incinerated to make us crippled. 

Thousands of sons with strength were sent to the front lines just to fizzle. 

With my farm gone there is nothing that I can call mine.

Life has changed for the ones who stayed. 

Life is over for the ones forced to go save. 

Brothers gone.

Mothers grieve for their fawn. 

Who knows if our soil will ever be the same after the blood shed.

Who knows if we can ever recoil and see the sun again. 

We’ll use a crane to rebuild. 

We’ll save our Ukraine and our fields.