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May 31
growing up, we were told countless stories-
of high castles and kings and queens,
of kids rising up against oppressive regimes,
of living in dystopian societies and overthrowing dictators.
today we fight a battle not even the stars could have foreseen.
injustice plagues our lands,
and good and evil has never been a line so clearly drawn.
we feel as if every new plot twist is an end of a chapter,
but the hill has never been steeper and the end seems a breath away.
it’s no wonder we grew into warriors-
we’ve sharpened our eyes and fortified our defenses,
we’ve sent our people to war and set the fuse- waiting for it to spread like wildfire,
we’ve raided artilleries and loaded our weapons-
we grew into warriors because we know no other way,
because the choice to stay silent is a privilege we can’t afford,
because people are dying on the streets and our “protectors” walk free while their hands are soaked in our blood.
what other world would we have known had our futures not been taken- stolen away in broad daylight?
there is a battle waging everywhere we turn,
and no matter what we do
it seems we are on the losing end.
what will happen if we leave today?
will somebody take a stand in our place?
perhaps tomorrow our children will not have to know a world where their father’s bodies line the streets,
perhaps one day these stories will be nothing but stories- tales we tell to send them to sleep,
perhaps when they dream they will not have to look far from reality.
or perhaps tomorrow they will grow into warriors, too-
hardened by the stories their ancestors told,
weapons in hand, forged in the fires of days past, and passed down from generation to generation,
ready to storm the villain’s lair through the path built by the bricks hurled at their mother's heads
as they chanted for justice outside the palace gates.
perhaps one day they will get lucky-
for luck is all we can rely on when hope has turned a blind eye.
tomorrow may be our day...
till then the hum of the distant drums grows louder.
one day,
one day,
one day-
we will finally win the war.
trying to put the past few weeks into words is like picking at a loose thread only to find it unravel the entire tapestry. we are fighting wars that are generations old, still in the time of a crisis. because we let the old normal continue on as it was until it snowballed into this disaster. it honestly feels like a losing battle, and no, it honestly does not seem like it will get better from here, but as long as we keep fighting, maybe someday these days will be nothing but cautionary tales of a land never to return.
Imara Vaglez
Written by
Imara Vaglez
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