“My Fate Is Tied to Kurdistan”
My fate is tied to Kurdistan —
Not by map, nor by decree,
But by the mountains in my marrow,
And the silence that still speaks through me.
I was born where borders blur,
Where languages twist like vines,
But every beat inside my chest
Still follows Kurdish lines.
They told me I belong elsewhere,
That exile makes you new,
But the wind still calls in Sorani,
And the sky bleeds yellow-blue.
I walk in foreign clothing now,
My tongue dressed up in shame,
But deep beneath, the soil I crave
Still whispers my true name.
Kurdistan is not a place —
It’s the ache behind my eyes,
It’s the fire in each defiance,
And the dream that never dies.
So let them draw their borders wide,
Let them pretend, erase, divide —
But I am written in that land,
And Kurdistan walks at my side.