I.

Soldiers will always return home

To lie 

In their lover’s lap

Or cry 

In their mother’s bosom

Nobody can kill you

They can dispossess you if they will,

Take your identity,

Displace you

And make you struggle for existence,

But you could grow your country  

Inside your bag

And when it gets lonely,

Because it always does,

You could touch it

Feel the edges of it’s landscapes

And let the scents of home stick to your skin

The Asters, 

Chrysanthemums

And Jasmines

You've endured history

What else would matter 

But your will to live

You will outlive dictators

And masquerading saviors

You will prosper

II.

If we are to rebuild this world, 

How can we be more truthful? 

How can we be truly honest

To admit myths are nothing but lies?

How can we be poets 

Not just of remembering

But of imagining and longing 

So we can lead thousands  

Into that golden city

Where we can be and not become?

Where we can stay pure,

Courageous,

And wise?

Come with me to first known lands,

To most unkind places,

Into crevices and fissures 

Where we can investigate truth 

So we can be generous

And change narratives

That it becomes not just the intent

But the action

We all need

III.

“When a lover for two years left, 

I was like an electrocuted bird 

Trying to stand still under the rain” 

It is true: we build things 

From the ruins of a collapse

We constantly seek for the absence 

That makes our being

Nothing is impossible in this world

We inherited the earth

We can break it,

Burn it,

Do it out of love, 

Out of hate, 

Or out of apathy 

But whatever we choose 

In the end we will only have hope 

Because everything is half chance

We can only put our faith ahead of doubts, 

Ahead of fears, 

Ahead of all things 

That paralyze us not to act