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ANOTHER MARTYR RISES

Another martyr rises Four or five months later there will be
From last night’s mortar shelling of Qabon. no friends for me,
Another friend who will not answer his phone, If I am still alive.
Another friend who will not answer my messages,
Another friend missing from the card games, And another martyr rises.
Fewer friends to watch a football match with,
Fewer friends to invite to your wedding, It’s only the body that passes,
Fewer friends to fight with, The spirit has not left,
And more friends to miss. The spirit has risen.
They will remain in our hearts,
And another martyr rises. And I’ll keep their numbers in my phone.
I will call from time to time,
Someone who promised he will buy your To hear their voice on the answering machine,
marriage suit. And to leave a message,
Who is going to buy it now? That I miss them all.
For sure not him. Calling them one by one.
He is six feet under, I’ll call soon to tell them we freed our country.
Wearing a white suit. I’ll call them all.
Damn him.
He lied. And another martyr rises.
He broke his promise,
And he broke my heart. This is not a good story,
But it is a true story,
And another martyr rises. With true people.
Once, they had a name,
More friends to remember: the last time you And now,
spoke, They all have the same title,
More friends to remember: the last cigarette you shared, Martyr.
More friends to remember: the last laugh you enjoyed. And another martyr rises.

– Omar Alkhani, Syrian Revolution Coordinators’ Union Secretary General

The Fear of Breathing: Stories from the Syrian Revolution

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