Unsaid

Bamyan’s every stone is a story, 

Traced in nights relentless with history

Isn’t there no one who didn’t steal from you? 

So you’ve kept your jewelry ever since? 

Ajdar’s cry as every day peels to night, 

For its burned heart it cries at night.  

My city, who hasn’t stolen your light? 

So in Salsal’s exploded eye-

It hasn’t seen injustice every night. 

The soil of you is to my eye Kohl, 

The dried blood on many innocent souls, 

What has made you so unlikely,

That you don’t hide longer, as Gholghole did. 

Dance to the honor of my misery, 

I am a girl raised outside of my city, 

You alone are different to ever hate, 

Hearing of Bamyan’s situation now hurts-

For Afghanistan, hearts shed blood. 

Baba Mazari’s statue is also stones on the ground, 

Before it was blasted by looters of rights, 

A leader who once saw the genocide, 

Was more than tortured to death.