You are
the one who speaks
when silence is a crime.
The one who kneels beside the wounded,
even when no one watches.
The one who breaks the locks
on gates barred
against the underworld.
The one who shields the backs of the betrayed
with your own chest—
from the blade of betrayal.
The one who stops the tank
with no armor but his voice,
his arms outstretched,
his blood becoming
the red light
that says: No further.
The healer who touches,
and syringes his soul,
without asking for gold.
The eye that sees the truth
and does not flinch—
even when it burns.
The teacher who lifts a child
to stand on the desk,
and say aloud:
“Shine—
louder than me.”
