All my life I’ve been scared of someone standing over me
I suppose my first stand over was by the tyrant, we thought was liberal
as he couldn’t vanish before i could even remember him in good
for some reason when i was a boy i liked to fight, i liked to resist
a lot of time I lost, with sometimes blood falling from my nose, with a bullet chiseling in my body, with tears soaking my happiness out.
Many years later i needed to hide, i tried not to sleep because i was afraid of who might be there when i woke up
will it be the death or the tyrant
but i was always lucky it was always my mother nation
when I was hiding, i dreamed of a certain death; a death as a martyr
the hardest walk was when i tried to find it
out of sheer luck and many footstep i found whats behind the veil of death
I slept with it for a long time, i told it about the dream , sufferings and pain.
but out of this thought, what did i see when i woke up
it wasnt the tyrant but someone else standing over my pain
by time i grew old enough to realise that train your dreams for fists
now i live in curbing, as bad dreams sill live in my sleep
one night after my usual nightmare a shadow stood above me
he said : tell me what do you dream of
i said freedom “AZAADI”
In return he explained what the dreams were made of
its makes me realize that the best stand over I’ve ever known is not a man its the false sympathy that tyrant beholds
the road of red stars followed me to live as deist
a portrait of freedom hangs in answer of never-ending pain
as joy of mourning has made me live in no ease
what was i scared for
the identity of shadow; as it had seen everything.
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