I Was the Lion

They forced me to be a Firefly.

Now, all hunt me for play.

I was the Sun to all creation,

But they barred me from sharing my light,

Blocking me with other planets. 

They forced me to be a Crow.

Now, all curse this black name.

I was the Lion of my land,

But they vetoed me to stretch my limbs,

Trapping me in a darkened cage.

Yet,

 I am the Mountaineer—

Who will not stop,

Until standing upon the summit.

Yet,

 I am the Warrior—

Who’ll never go home, 

Before standing as war’s shield.

I am Ro Hefzu, one of the Rohingya minority who faced the brutal genocide, racism, discrimination, and massacre perpetrated by our government in Myanmar and I am currently staying in Bangladesh Refugee Camp and I am an undergraduate student at University of the People pursuing my bachelor degree with Business Administration and a Rohingya young poet— fighting for the rights of my persecuted minority like Rohingya and Palestinians with my pen in the realms of poetry.

Poetry, to me, is not just an art form but a mirror reflecting the struggles, hopes, and dreams of humanity and poetry is the alchemy of the quicksilver pulse of emotions, the trembling breath of love, echoes lingering between hearts, and a shadow-stitched tapestry of the soul.