Kings of Iran, I'll speak up today. (safe from my stool, with no price to pay) Oh would you but hear what I have to say. Those who abuse and oppression have sown, I'll try to inform you the harvest you've grown. (Let me state plain: You're hurting your own.) To all else: Listen, woman or man, Persian or muslim, who searches for land! Listen and hear: the world can well see, That you by own hands have sought change to be. (And what more, denied, let flow a green sea.) You are the ones that have raised up your arms, Laid your case clear, stood up, called alarms. To which kings respond by seeking a fight, Presuming that time will prove their deeds right. You prove them all wrong, at not playing their games! They sought to turn tables, with hatred and names. Invoking old foes, cracking down in their error. You stand up in their faces, rejecting their terror. Who makes martyrs of women? Who makes bruises of them? Who sets the distinctions, hides facts from free men? Who puts you on streets? Calls rallies for lies? Who sparks conflict on fire and ignores the cries? I ask these; What ARE you MEN struggling for, When silence is cracked but by YOUR guns' roar? What stand you for? Virtue, honour and God? For your state or beliefs? Money or jihaad? NO MATTER the reasons, they will never do! Your words are made cheap, when lives are lost too. Each blatant omission, each strike with tools hard, Gains nothing but resolve, destructs the paths barred. With lives people buy, with blood they now hold, A hard-earned ideal, when YOUR souls you have sold! Unjust then are you who can call on God meek, When silence and blood seems the one thing you seek! Terror and violence, the tears in your lands. Much could you void them, this is too on your hands. You sought to all silence, yet silence screamed louder. Fear gained you naught, people merely grew prouder. I see what you cause, see those you have maimed, And this for the people's sake, you have claimed? Better then that you should cease and desist, For here there is horror that all must resist! To resist hatred's rise, to resist chaos' reign, To reject all the notions that have caused so much pain! You have soon lost the chance to decide what befalls, If a new beginning can be, or if bloodshed now calls! To all else who care: Remember the gold'nest rule, Do unto others, provide hatred no fuel! Stand up with your peers, and SHOW us what's right! We'll see how and when, you're rid of this blight. (And I hope the oppression will end for tonight.) ---- Author's comment: I guess this goes here? Hell if I know if this will help any, though, beyond mere symbolism. Please note that I'm not trying to intentionally incite violence, or create handy-dandy slogans for Iranians to brandish, or follow (or create) a trend for Iranian 'sympathy' poems...But I wanted to do something, at least. In some way tell those people who were in the Iranian streets, undeniably getting beaten and shot at (killed, imprisoned), that I saw, and I heard, and I felt, too, for what little it's worth. To express what I've seen, and what I've admired and loathed, through the anonymous channels the protesters have provided, scenes that few can deny have the rough-edged nature of raw reality about them.