Tomorrow, I Tear Down the Wall
Tomorrow,
I am not waiting.
I am not asking.
I am not standing behind glass while maps lie.
I will open a channel —
not of media,
but of memory.
I will speak:
Kurds are not Iranian.
We are not boxed by empire names.
We are not Persia’s quiet footnote
or Turkey’s stubborn borderland.
I will say:
Palestinians are Lebanese by blood —
because lines in sand
don’t erase the ocean underneath.
And I will say this:
Kurdistan is real.
You can censor the flag,
but you cannot unwrite the mountain.
They tried to divide us
with treaties signed in rooms we never entered,
in tongues we never spoke,
over lands we never gave.
But tomorrow —
I raise my voice.
I tear the wall with syllables.
With names.
With faces.
With truths you tried to drown in silence.
And if the world listens,
good.
If it doesn’t —
I’ll speak louder.