Heroes Poem by Paradis Winslet

Heroes,

Heroes are born,
Their courage and heroism lives on,
Their names lifted and encrypted in our hearts,

It was the era of conflicts, deaths, and despair,
It was a 19 century,
The beginning of terror and dictatorship,
The era of an ion ruling hand
A period of a muddle and the era of murderers

Murdered men, and plundered their wealth,
Out of their homes, they drove them to the hills,
Drove them to exile, denied a nation and nationality,
Robbed their identity and dignity,

Out of greed the ruler with an iron hand,
And a heart of a beast forced a people out of their land into exile,
For 6 decades they struggled,
Died like flies in the refugee camps,
Under those plastic tents, they cried out,
This was a beginning of a very long,
And painful journey,

Forcefully driven out of their homes,
Out of their motherland,
Denied their nation and nationality,
Murdered and stripped-off their hopes and dignity,
They scattered in the neighboring countries,
And into lands unknown, far, far away,
Across the seas where they were despised and haunted,
But out of pain, struggles and despair,
They grew strong and flourished,
Everywhere they landed, they made it,
Through pain and sorrow,
They learned the art of survival,
Their enemies envied their strength and courage,

The tree grew wider and stronger,
Nations heard of them,
Their courage, resistance, and suffering,
But time passed by and the world forgot about them
And their cause altogether,
While their fathers died and their mothers aged prematurely in camps,
The sons and daughters grew stronger and wiser,

Through so much injustice done on to them,
The young refugees observed the unfairness and greed of men,
Out of pain and despair, they acknowledged that;
Their destiny laid in their own hands,
And there was no savior for their people and their cause, but themselves,
So they marched, young and old,
Girls and boys, they marched,

Heroes,

Out of suffering and struggles, they grew wise, resistant and stronger,
Like a stream of mighty waters, they rolled on steady and fast,
Through dust, they rose,
Through jungles, they fought and marched in unity
Out of ashes they rose high above and far,
They held their heads up high through it all,
Walked tall and carried their father's name with honor and pride.
Refined by their misfortune and sorrowful past,
They became united and determined to change a destiny designed for them,
Surely the hand of their maker led their path through Stormy waves,
In refugee camps, protected from perishing to cholera, Malaria, and HIV.

Heavens stood by their side and walked ahead of them,
Strengthened their hands and feet,
The tree that was cut grew stronger and wider,
They became greater and numerous,
Fought for their people's freedom and nation's liberation,
Restored her pride and honor,
Children and elders sang of them soldier, heroes,
And the way they defeated a mighty power of the West,
How they bent the iron hand,
Mothers chanted songs of heroes,
The war, the battlefield, and victory,
They harmonized songs of courage for their young sons,
And daughters who left for the war to liberate their motherland.

Blood was shade not in vain, but in liberation and honor of
' The Land of a Thousand Hills) , and for the sake of her children,

Heroes,

Did liberate their fathers, mothers, sisters, and brothers,
They did liberate their people and their motherland,
They brought us back home,
Gave us a nation and nationality,
Restored our honor and gave us identity,
Restored our nation's pride,
Restored our nation into the world map and in the world's view.

Heroes,

Are born,
In honor of our heroes,
Those lost on the battlefield and those alive.
We thank you and appreciate you.