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UNDER THE MERCILESS FISTS

by PanteaAEW

In these days, Iran stands at a crossroads of resilience and longing. People hope for moments of joy, not born from pain or sorrow. They reach out, seeking connection instead of clenched fists, striving to keep hope alive. Amid struggles, there is a desire for action that frees rather than destroys, breaking chains that hold the spirit captive. The longing for freedom and peace soars, like wings of white, carrying the promise of light even through ruins. βœŠπŸΌπŸ•ŠοΈβœŒπŸ½πŸ’”πŸ€πŸ©Ά THE MUSIC AND POEM MADE BY ME Hoping for tears of pure delight, Not from wounds, not from grief, not from night. Hoping for hands that reach to hold, Not clenched fists that let hope grow cold. Hoping for a hammer that falls, conscious and free, Not to destroy, but to shatter what binds me. Hoping for freedom and peace, with wings of white, An angel rising from ruin, carrying light.

Media
Video
Chain
TEZOS
Network
Tezos
Contract
KT1BgAusCfUkPNSaTa92Z89sGTdvu9nTLwEt
Token ID
41

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