A Sigh Beneath the Stars
Oh, how the world trembles in silence,
Where shadows of justice and doubt entwine.
One hand calls for salvation, the other destruction,
Heroes and traitors walk the same crooked line.
Ye Wenjie, gazing beyond the frailty of man,
Whispers to the void, "Perhaps they will be better."
But the void is never silent, never kind,
Its echoes return, colder than any winter.
Snowden, with keys of truth clutched tight,
Unlocks a cage only to find another.
Freedom and exile are siblings in plight,
A family torn apart by secrets smothered.
Is it treason to dream of a world remade,
Or courage to break the chains of deception?
When the cost of truth is a world afraid,
Are we judges or the judged in reflection?
So sigh, O stars, with your ancient breath,
For the burdens of choice are too great to bear.
Ye called for the unknown; Snowden revealed it.
Both lit fires in the night, but no warmth was there.
Sigh, for the weight of the world rests on the frail,
Not on the victors, but those who dare fail.
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