Not Yours
Lay down your weapons,
Your swords,
Your axes and stones
And leave from civilization’s open door.
Don’t throw your holly books
Holly verses
And holly rules at me anymore.
I’m not your slave.
I won’t dance on that same old song.
Put your hands down
And seal those preaching lips,
Spare me all the advice you don’t follow,
All the rules you always break
And the trials you hold with no judges,
Or juries
Or a law.
Don’t wait for another story, Shehrayar
On the night one hundred thousand, I found out,
That your hangman is a statue,
And his sword is of blunt tin.
Kept at sight to make me stay
And entertain.
I’m wide awake now
An eternity of silence has come to an end.
I will take off the dress of
shame,
Purity and death you’ve put on me
And crush with my bare feet,
All the presents with my freedom you purchased me.
Genitals, is all you see of me, you blind fool!
I am human,
Train your ears, your eyes and lips on this truth.
I am human,
Just like you,
and sometimes even better than you,
You, who led all the wars,
To gain nothing but losses,
You, who climbed to the top,
To find yourself crawling in dirt
You, who owned the world,
To find yourself begging for some love
You, who satisfied all your desires,
To find yourself filled with emptiness
You, who stuffed your God with humanity’s blood,
To find yourself dying of loneliness and guilt
You, the wretched slave of darkness,
You, haunted by the shame of a weakness,
You hide behind your bodily strength.
You, the blind and deaf servant of illusions
You take for the ultimate truth.
You, oh poor you!
I’m telling you once for all:
My freedom is mine
Not the tool to achieve yours.
My choices are mine,
Even if they don’t comply with your rules
My future is mine,
And not an extension of yours
And my body,
Yes, my body,
Is mine,
Not your blood-thirsty idols',
Not your cannibal tribe's
And not yours.
