Dear Khodayar, I hate to think of you alone,
of you removed from life.
I hate to see you negated,
cheated,
shut out from this sweet world.
I don't want them to take your name away,
to give you a number instead.
Fences, files and lies
to make you a prisoner, to pretend you are not human.
I can't abide this.
I witness this.
I want to be your friend.
You spell your name with a K,
Khodayar means friend of god.
You resist all the repression that was thrown on you.
This cruelty from an angry nation.
They say you are at fault, of course they do.
They go further and say
that this industry for harming is because they care.
Their ultimate lie is an extra savagery
dressed in a suit.
You denounce them; their actions and their words.
You are not alone, many speak with you.
But your suffering is so real, so palpable.
Your suffering,
your suffering,
is so immense.
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