I was there, the night before
When the stars fell to the pavement
Like a swarm of lightning bugs, butts crushed by the same boot
Stepping on my neck
Gun shots
Ring in my ears like a migraine
And the crackling of fire burning up parliament
Resounded in the type of memory
That tells of a future
In the death of the past.
Everyone is fighting for a life
And for lives that have been lost
That in a world so preoccupied with survival
Have forgotten to prosper
And cannot move on.
Someone shouts at the top of their lungs when my bones crack
But I can hear them
\"ZEN ZENDIGI AZADI!\"
I don\'t think a minute is wasted before the barrel is pointed to my temples
And in that instant
There is no closure
Faces masked by a paint
(White, red, and green)
And mandibles concealed by bandanas
Boring the nature of the true Persian flag;
Spirited by the empowerment of its ornate correspondence
I was there, the night before
And as my loved ones sought me out in the pile of ash
And the pile of bodies
I was there, the night, and the one after
Seeking the end
To all the redemptive fates
Of all those people
That fought to the end.