" Murdered Mockingbirds of Iran"

Pamelia Riviere

I am Zahara Mohhmmadi, a little angel of Tehran

I was only a 14-month-old infant, 

The very morning, 

I was filled with joy, giggling!

I had been playing with my colourful toys, 

Those were smashed, 

Shattered each part of it; left scattered around me,

It was a doomsday!  

The sun streamed gently through the window, 

Illuminating the room 

With a warm glow, 

Creating the perfect setting for a delightful playtime! 

In a sudden and tragic turn of events, 

Everything changed, 

The huge explosions 

Crashed my peaceful imaginary world!

 Now I am drowned in a stupa of blood and meat, 

My body was torn into pieces  

By the evil power, the Satanic regimes 

America and Israel!

I am a tiny baby peacefully nestled in a casket, not in my favourite crib, 

Softly dozing off under the watchful eye of my Grandpa, 

The esteemed Supreme Leader of Iran, 

Ayatollah Ali Khamenei! 

The warmth of the room

Wraps around us like a gentle blanket, 

And beside me, my beloved mother, 

Boshra Khamenei is also drifting into a hushed slumber!

My mother's presence offered me comfort and safety,

Together, we share this tranquil bereavement moment, 

We are surrounded by love and family,

Lovely, peaceful people of Iran! 

My beautiful 168 Minab friends who were torn into pieces, 

We were bombed 

To shred the meat,

My companions were slaughtered brutally!

The tragic memory of my 168 friends from Minab 

Haunts me still, 

Each one of them was mercilessly torn apart,

The cruelty had no limits for the innocent elementary children!  

We all endured relentless bombings, 

The air was filled with chaos and destruction

It felt as though the very fabric of our lives was shredded, 

Reducing our camaraderie to mere fragments!

Those little angels Iran held dear 

Were subjected to unspeakable brutality, 

Their lives were extinguished in an appalling act of violence

By the US and Israel!

The inverted tulips, national symbol for martyrdom, are wailing

Iran's stunning water lily, the Damask rose flower, did not bloom  

The nightingale birds stopped singing, 

And the iconic Persian cypress is too busy writing our saga! 

This world and Iran will bear the scars of memory, 

Haunted by the agonies inflicted, 

Atrocities committed by the forces of darkness, 

Wielding their satanic power with ruthless abandon! 

People of Iran, do not mourn for a long time,

We concluded our spectacular symbolic funeral tours

The procession moved through two countries, Iran and Iraq

Tehran, Qom, Najaf, Karbala, and Mashhad before final burial!

We are the silenced voices of Iran,

We did not die,

We are awake,

To ensure the Iranian people's liberties!

We were the slaughtered mockingbirds,  

The fragile souls of innocence, 

Singing sweet melodies 

To foster harmony across the world!

  Though our voices were silenced 

Through senseless violence,  

We hold steadfast in the belief

Our sacrifices will not be forgotten!

We are martyrs; our lives were sacrificed 

In a struggle for peace,  

Our spirits soaring high, 

This echoes our optimism for a brighter future for Iran!

We were Iran's mockingbirds, 

We're chirping to bring peace on this earth, 

Our bloodshed will not be in vain,

We, little spirits, are the victims, the martyred!  

We were the murdered mockingbirds,

The fragile souls of innocence, 

Singing sweet melodies 

To foster harmony across the world!

 Though our voices were shushed

Through senseless brutality, 

We hold steadfast in the belief 

Our sacrifices will not be forgotten!

We are the unheard voices of Iran, 

Resilient and unbroken, 

We stand vigilant and alive, 

Determined to safeguard the rights and freedoms of Iran!

We are martyrs in a struggle for peace,

Our spirits soaring high, 

A testament to Iran's hope 

For a better tomorrow!