“A Dream for Kurdistan”
They call me names, they call me “fascist,”
For wanting what’s mine, for dreaming of more.
I seek a home, a land I can claim,
Not just a dream, but a future to restore.
They speak of the EU, of Africa's pain,
As if their histories are mine to bear,
But my blood runs deep in ancient soils,
A legacy that none can tear.
I seek no harm, I ask for no fight,
Just the land where my roots run free,
But to want this peace, this place called home,
Makes me the enemy, it seems to be.
So call me what you will,
But my dream remains bright and bold—
For Kurdistan, for what’s truly mine,
A story in my heart, a story to be told.