Son of the Turk, know this,
I am the mother of wolves,
I am the wounded Queen of wars;
I am the wounded of deep hate,
The bird atop mountains, a husband,
A sister or a mother.
I am the murderer of rats who encourage death,
I am Kobani, Quamislo and Rojava's red revenge,
I am Zilan, a strong fire,
I am disaster, strength and Bravery.
I've been reborn from death several times,
Yet you still haven't managed to take me,
I promise to turn your home into hell and disaster,
I was the queen of freedom shackled by my mercy.
But I have long since broken free of it, and created a weapons from it, Hope. Freedom and Bravery.
I am now the General of my people,
A part of every soul On the front line,
A drop of every life lost on the battle field for a taste of a drug you will never have an antidote for.
I am Kurdistan!
YOU ARE READING
War
PoesiaA book full of poems about war and unity (mainly for the kurds, but it could be classified to be written for other people too.)
