Poetry: Jahangir Khan
Revolutionary Iran,
You do not merely run toward Tehran—
you march through history.
Revolutionary Khomeini,
you did not live to conquer lands,
but to defeat the enemy of dignity.
Each day of war speaks plainly:
Iran will overcome the conspiracy,
and stand unbroken against oligarchy.
The blood of Palestine rises again—
a river that refuses silence.
Witness: Iranian brotherhood flows
within their very veins.
Bolivarians now bare their chests,
green fields of courage growing.
In the streets of Venezuela
they rise like sharpened revolution—
for freedom,
for President Nicolás Maduro and his wife.
Iran and Venezuela stand in one row,
defending the shadow
of a wounded yet beautiful world.
Yes—they will win,
even if the path is hard.
The days of our earth are weeping.
A Yankee ruler—
you call him leader,
we name him dictator.
Not merely a dictator,
but chief among plunderers,
as oil tankers are pirated,
as nations are looted.
History will remember
his hypocrisy,
wrapped in the Monroe Doctrine.
Yesterday—an umbrella for colonial Britain.
Today—you, Trump,
more imperial than empire,
more colonial than colonies.
Painful words, but necessary:
you speak the language of power,
not the language of humanity.
Learn the meaning of words
before ruling worlds.
Remember Bolívar—
whose philosophy freed nations,
country after country.
Your doctrine never liberated—
it fed on livelihoods,
thrived on falsehood.
If you do not stop,
history itself will rise vertically
to stop you.
