by Pascal Nnamani

Stand not in silence, turn not your head,
When peace is punished and justice dead.
There’s truth that cries from hidden halls,
Where Falun Gong still suffers and falls.

They ask no riches, chant no war,
They seek to heal, to hurt no more.
Their hands are bare, their hearts are still,
Yet China hunts them down to kill.

They meditate in morning light,
They speak of truth, of wrong and right.
They live by words that lift, not break—
But for this faith, they burn at stake.

But the state, drunk on its own might,
Could not bear their growing light.
When crowds grew large in every place,
The Party struck with iron face.

In ninety-nine, the purge began,
With one man’s order, hate was planned.
Jiang Zemin’s fear became a war
Against a group who wished no more.

So, here’s the call, both loud and plain:
Their human rights must rise again.
No more torture, no more lies,
No more fear behind the eyes.

Call your leaders, speak your mind,
Ask them not to walk so blind.
Tell the press to break the wall,
Let truth be heard in every hall.

Let China know the world can see.
That human rights are not for fee.
No trade can buy our souls away,
No fear should make our hearts obey.

And to the ones still standing strong,
Still holding breath in prison long.
Know this: the world will one day hear.
And with your strength, we’ll draw you near.

So, write their names, and learn their pain,
And let their courage not be vain.
For when we stand, not just belong.
We’re advocates for Falun Gong.

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Recognized as an Honorable Mention in FoFG’s 2025 Poetry Contest