You and I are from the generation not able to fly

enslaved in the claws of a vulture.

The vulture that used its bladed claws

to kill you, right in front of my eyes.

My shattered heart fell on the ground.

Your loss broke my heart

in hundred pieces…

Tell me!

Tell me, have you found happiness wherever you are now?

Have you managed to find freedom in the afterlife?

Do you remember what it was like to be alive and a teenager?

Do you still feel the love for our country?

Tell me…

Are there no more perverts there?

Is axe not the only fate for the trees?

Are there still people trying to steal your intellect?

Does your pride no longer get violated there?

Are there any anonymous graves there?

Are there mothers sobbing over there?

By Hila Sedighi