I am Neda; a voice in the shadows
Your unwilling symbol of liberty
A gasp of heaven before a battle for freedom
Spilled my blood in hopeless want
You asked me to stay then
As my burning heart dwindled
to a soul’s fading last breath
.. ..
No gun, nor stick, nor stone, ever filled my soft hands
No marker exists for my absent, pre-packed grave
No memorial allowed to mark my life
.. ..
I was afraid
I am still afraid
I remain uncounted
Festering, unnamed, I lie in this (un)holy ground
assembled hurriedly, in contempt and repression
SRWB 2010
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