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Writer's pictureTheresa Baxter

Navalny


A world away the softest whisper

A shuffled step, unswaddled blister

The clanging bars, the damp and cold

Aseptic smell does not get old

The punishment of shut-in silence

A steely glance foretold of violence

We’ll never know how felt those nights

His restless sleep, fluorescent lights

What was the food? And did it nourish

Was deficiency allowed to flourish?

All in aim to dampen spirit

Suppress his voice so none would hear it

With every ounce of strength possessed

He soldiered on, he would not rest

For so long he was thorn in side

Now, squirreled away, they hoped to hide

The headlines might have left behind

Their goal, keep out of sight and mind

He never stopped, he would not bend

No other way could this tale end…

The truth will always be elusive

His captor brazen, his glee abusive

But may his death be stirring song

Held in esteem, where he belongs

His name synonymous with freedom

Let his name be chant that leads them

To end the scourge of tyranny

Is what will be his legacy…


DO NOT GIVE UP.


Alexei Anatolyevich Navalny

June 4, 1976 - February 16, 2024

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