A Call for Freedom: A Poem for the Kuki-Zo

We don’t ask for peace, not built on the graves,
Of our children, our elders, who died brave.
In the flames of our homes, in the blood on the land,
We demand a future, where free we stand.

No longer can we live under the same sky,
With those who watched our people die.
Their hands drenched in our tears and pain,
We refuse to walk that road again.

The hills whisper freedom, the rivers call our name,
We seek not union but to break these chains.
A land of our own, where we can be,
Good neighbors—yes, but never the same family.

For we cannot forget how they hunted us down,
Burned our homes and razed our towns.
No apology can heal what they’ve torn,
No peace can grow from the seeds of scorn.

So let us part, let the borders divide,
Where our spirits can heal, where our dreams can reside.
Separate, but strong, we will rise anew,
In a land where the Kuki-Zo’s flag will fly true.

With hearts of steel, and unshaken pride,
We’ll build our nation, for those who died.
With every step, our ancestors’ voices will sing,
Of a homeland reborn, of freedom’s wings.

Never again will we kneel, never will we fall,
For our blood is our strength, and our land is our call.
In the name of the Kuki-Zo, united we stand,
Our flag will fly high, over our sacred land!