Wednesday, 20 June 2012

Chechen War Poem - The Chechen Wolf

This mountain I sit on with my AK47 by my side is the philosophy to my rebel led life

I sit under a star lit sky of this most serene night reminiscing about being out in the wilds. I am nothing but a survivor of too many battles fought all across this land I have called my Chechen home, I am nothing but a young man whose future is a gun I hold in my battle hardened hands, I am nothing other than a pauper of a youth whose only wealth is the bravery bestowed upon me by being born into such a proud people who only know the bullets of the gun and the dream of everlasting peace

I am all alone on this mountain top, I am listening out for the Russian gunship that will soon come down from behind the darkened clouds to erase and bury me under the dirt of this remote place on Earth, this remote place on Earth where no choir of Angels dares goes to sing, this remote place on Earth where one day I will be sentenced and buried in bullet holes for having the courage to say NO

I say this with so much sincerity and with no such shame, for when times get hard all I do is pray I can do the Chechen wolves that have been and howled before me proud, the Chechen wolves who never asked for much, just to be like the Chechen wolves who never learnt to stop their growls

I am a speck of dust under the skies of this cold evening night whose never ending love for Chechnya will never leave no matter how cold I become, coldness never will suffocate me for my Chechen land warms up my fearless heart with love, I know in the history of this world this moment is but a passing second but for this one moment I am the lone soldier with the heart of a wolf who stands up to the merciless and stronger bear, I am the wolf who prevents the bear from extinguishing the Chechen flame

I am the wolf who wants nothing less than the freedom of my land, the freedom of this land to be liberated from the greed and corruption of all the exploitation and wickedness of a distant countries oppressive control
If I must spill my blood to make this happen I will bleed without a whimper or a complaint, let this wolf die alone and brave, let this wolf bleed for the sake of an end to the war and an end to all the mass graves of men, women and children whose only guilt is living in this sacred place

I did not ask to be a witness to all this death, I did not ask to be thrust into this mess, but I will never turn my back on what is being asked, so give me strength Chechnya and fill me with your conviction, let the soldiers of your message continue to rise up and let the soldiers of your message never stop the fight

I do not care for politics, I do not care for the rest of the world’s petty squabbles, I do not care for the greed and the terror of the bureaucrats who have sent these foreign soldiers out here to fight against me but I understand for Chechnya I must go on and for Chechnya I will never stop howling this rebel song

All I want is to roam on this mountain top and go into the night with my Chechen pack, to be free and proud, to live and die like a son of Chechnya so the sun can set on a free Chechnya.

The wolf I have become is a wolf made wild in the night, the wolf who will never be tamed by intimidation, the wolf who will never bow down to a superpowers boot or an oppressors dictatorial rage

I have been forced to become ferocious and alone. I have seen so much bloodshed, and I have spilled too much blood but as a true son of Chechnya I shall never ever give up

The youthful gift given unto me will be a youth that will roam and howl until this youth can howl no more
So give me a full moon is all I ask as I look up above to the cloud filled darkened sky, give me a full moon so I can show my solidarity for this cause, give me a full moon so I can see my shadow spread across the mountains behind me. Let the full moon reflect the silhouette of my shadow, let my silhouette be the flag of the cause and let the gun I hold in my battle hardened hands be the gun to fire the last shot

 I will now stand up on this mountain top and look all around me, I see Chechnya, I see the land of my birth, and I know this will be the land of my death, the land of the brave and the land of the blessed

Let me howl to the plants which one day will be washed away of all the spilled blood and let me howl so no Chechen daughter will be dishonoured or deflowered again

Now I will go out into the night to risk my life once again, and all I have to protect me from death is this wolf I have grown to call a friend. For my land and home I will lay down all I have ever known.

Let me pass this life with Chechen blood coursing through my veins and let me give all I have for this land I sincerely adore, all I have to give is defiance to the rest of the world who want to stop Chechnya from howling into a sovereign state

But little does the world know

As long as there are wolves in Chechnya no wolf will be silenced, as long as there are wolves in Chechnya then no Chechen wolf will ever stop howling for that longed  for sovereign Chechen state.

Originally Posted Here

The Wolf Of The Caucasus

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