The Asiatic Lion Sleeps No More
Beware the lion that walks in silence.
He roars not in markets, nor chants in parades—
He sharpens his claws beneath the rubble,
And his vengeance waits in plain sight.
O Israel,
Do not live in yesterday's trumpet.
David slew Goliath, yes—
But not every stone shall fly again.
The soil of Persia is ancient and proud,
It has buried empires and baptized invaders.
The men of Iran—
they do not die as men die.
They burn with history in their blood,
And rise like dust after every bombing.
The West,
in its arrogance, plays with fire
thinking fire belongs to it.
But fire answers no flag,
nor kneels to democracies built on oil.
You boast of steel and sanction,
of drones and doctrines—
But the lion builds in silence,
and his weapons do not glitter.
They hum in caves,
and hide behind clouds of denial.
America,
You speak too loudly.
And those who speak most
often hold the least.
Power is not in sound,
but in restraint.
And greatness is not shown
in how you strike,
but in who dares strike you back.
The lions of Asia
do not fear death—
They have dined with it
for centuries.
Your satellites cannot see spirit.
Your bombs cannot crush pride.
And if you keep pushing,
what sleeps may awaken
not as a nation—
but as a storm.
A great catastrophe
is not forged in one day—
but in the arrogance of years.
So listen to silence,
for silence is not peace—
it is planning.
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