Revolutionary: The Artist...

 Revolutionary: The Artist


Every revolution hides a dream,

An unfinished sketch, a silent theme.

The fire does not only burn to destroy,

It brings the dawn, a whisper of joy.


A revolutionary doesn't just wield a gun,

He ignites thought — one by one.

Each of his words is a hidden poem,

Each step — a rhythm, a rising omen.


When he paints slogans on broken walls,

He’s an artist answering justice's calls.

Crafting history with a rebel’s hand,

Sketching truth where tyrants stand.


His eyes don’t hold manifestos or plans,

Just a vision — beyond gods and lands.

With soil, with blood, with silent cries,

He builds a world where freedom flies.


Yes, there is romance in every fight,

As there is in love — fierce and bright.

And the revolutionary?

He’s an artist with fire in his breath,

Writing “Revolution”

in the language of death and rebirth.

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