by Perseas Vanebo

They did not carry weapons,
only the quiet defiance
of stillness,
only breath
and belief.
For that—
they were hunted.
Not for harm,
but for peace.
Not for war,
but for faith.
Falun Gong—
they are not a threat,
but the truth
is dangerous
to those who fear light.
Dragged from homes,
erased without trial,
as if kindness
could collapse a regime.
As if meditating
was rebellion.
As if the divine in them
must be dismantled
organ by organ,
breath by breath.
We never knew their names—
not all—
but we know the loss:
a father,
a sister,
a child who bowed to peace.
They vanished
into red silence,
while the world
moved on.

But I won’t.
This poem
is a grave
and a battle cry.
Their stories
live in every line.
And through our voices,
they rise.

* * *

 

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