“No Wolves, No Myth”
Maybe the GökTürks
weren’t what you expected.
Not the noble horsemen
etched in silver.
Not the sky-worshippers
you shaped into statues.
Not even wolves.
Maybe they had no symbol.
Maybe they had no flag.
Maybe they didn’t need one.
Maybe they rode
because standing still
meant becoming part of someone else’s story.
You gave them wolves
to make them easier to sell.
You gave them gods
to feel closer to yourself.
You turned fire into folklore,
movement into metaphor.
But what if they were never beasts?
What if they were never sacred?
What if they were simply
a people
who refused to be
owned?
Not Ottoman.
Not Republic.
Not yours.
Just voices scattered in the wind.
Names left without heirs.
Truths too heavy for curriculum.
No wolves.
No myth.
Just silence
you can’t colonize.