Suppression Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Suppression

To me, does not sound right
But this is core of talk:
"Had four wives! Never died! "

Opposes this news
With logic and the books.

He, to some was savage
"Shed blood, innocents'! "

Say many settlers:
"Was a born murder."

To me, none is correct.

Each speaks in excess!

He was a warrior
The war-chief, elected
Like "Defence Minister."

He knew how to fight,
Survival, he, best taught:
"Be alert, sharp, proud."

Enemy to him was
A worthless dot in dust.

He hunted their scalps
And hung them on the walls.

The true officers
Are brave, good leaders,
They never dare fear,
See dread as their shame,
Whenever fall, injured
Prefer to be dead…

It was same with Big Bear
And every warrior
That was right, devoted.

Sure, he was one of them.

After loss, sang death song
To inform those around,
Raised high the soldier's knife
And aimed it to his lung.

The dagger did not end
The life of war leader…

Stood firm like a rock,
Embarrassed the day, night,
Galaxies and stars…

"I did what I did and
I believe I was right,
Am ready to depart
By a rope, or a gun! "

Wounded, made decision
To seal mouth, keep silent.

No photo was allowed
Nobody dared to come
Admire, criticise…

This is how heroes die,
They can read the foes' hearts:
"Bitumen of devil, hellish, dark! "

Enemy was afraid,
(Read US and El Che.)

Buried him in secret
To turn the eyes away.

Such people become myths
Faults and facts become mix
And all in extreme…

Some claim: "He was hung, "
Others say: "He is alive."