Heirs of Downfall

I dwell in ruins of the former over-the-horizon-radar
Antennas rust slowly, squeak in the wind
Thousands tons of metal — high alloy steel
150 meters — zinc layer prevent it from corroding
Epic construction — retreat of the damned — a place of rest
My mind accepts what the eyes won’t believe
Rise — over the forest
Rise — to the sky
Hiding in the shadows of humming towers we survived
A smoldering fire pit warms my cold dead hands
Study an updated map where are the erased places marked
And the concrete stab roads are surrounded by thick pine forest
Power plant is shimmering in the distance behind the trees
Half-destroyed houses, abandoned villages appear on the horizon
Horizon — the north trace
Horizon — antenna arrays — dead place
Transuranic concentrations force anguish towards the residents
Beyond all imagination — overwhelming fear grips the body
I am one of 300
Still live in the exclusion zone
The monster in the conrete cage still it hungers
I force myself to sleep among the mouldered crossgraves
The singing of the dead brings me to rest
No grave wreaths, no plastic flowers
Only the yellow-black triangular radiation signs
Prypjat
Cargo port, crane cemetery
I pick one of the cabins
Surmount the endless leader to reach a height
Heirs of downfall
Dead population
Endstage in doom
Dwelling in the ruins
Singing of the dead