Compilations of my revolutionary poems:
Our stomachs are turning, our screams become one voice. Behind the metal bars of prison, they interrogate each person. Under torture and misery, the prison bars will break from our struggle and the gruesome discovery. Armed with nothing but a wish for a better world, it becomes our desire for vengeance and our sword! A crow sits on the edge of the window, the crow represents our coming freedom! The blood spilt during torture will weigh in on the scale of history. Arise, oh crow of freedom and poetry, and help us break our chains of slavery! We continue our revolution, may our struggle bring the bourgeois trepidation! The iron bars break from the weight of our blood and words! In the name of the bloody tulips on the ground, in the name of this dark chapter of history where we stand proud! Stand up, oh martyr, the clock strikes towards the charter! The tulips stand in a line ready to signify the martyr's struggle, class warfare and struggle shall toggle the end. Each of us is ready to die in the name of the objective, oh tulips, arise, oh tulips, arise!
Poem by me: βcomradesβ: Remember oh remember, my dear comrades! Oh, yon fighters, oh yon proletariat, oh oppressed of the world. This awoken worldβ¦becomes free with our misery! The cold steel of prison, it stings us once more. From slaveryβ¦ to equalityβ¦where in this world are we not oppressed, comrades? The night has arrived, the rain has started. The fog has come hither. Oh, freedom fighters, oh imprisoned ones, oh comrades. This hungry world becomes content with our struggle. With the hope of the coming day of victoryβ¦ stand up, stand up!!! Oh, sweet taste of death, oh, cold steel of prison, oh, horrific torture. When will it end, comrades? History moves on, it is with our hands that we create our own heaven on Earth, oh, comrades!!!
βEy Shaheedβ: oh martyr, thou noble thou who art revolutionary. Oh martyr, thou who acts as a wall against artillery. The revolution goes on, the sun shall set again on the horizon. The rain washes away the blood of the martyrs, yesterday they stood in front of a machine gun and fell like leafs, oh martyr! Yet the blood of the martyrs lives and from it grows an army, the martyr lives and dies with dignity. The day after the machine gun massacres, the Vanguard organized and fired back at the cadavers. Oh martyr, your vengeance is nigh and your cause is high, rise now, martyr, from the sky. For the very rain clouds that swept away their blood are now on their side, blocking the view of the enemy, their guns as dangerous as pie. The people shall be victorious