A Remembrance of Neda
The world never knew you
beyond those final moments.
Your martyrdom unintentional,
the blood far too real.
The air has grown stagnant over
the land as the reigns of power
loosened, then pulled tighter.
A noose choking you
but unwilling to kill you.
What now?
Your rest eternal,
the struggle never ending.
When will the wind return?
No comments:
Post a Comment