Honor Front: Kobane

Something beyond naked heart and courage; like love, passion, believing. Living what you are attached to, believing in; breathing from the blood, breath, and soul of what you live. Giving life, feeding on the life you give… We used to say, “Kobanê is a dream we see when we are sober.” Everyone would see it soon; the shamelessness covered by savagery would never dare to appear as virtue in these lands again. On the threshold of a time when no one would dare to appear as anything other than themselves, what came from evil would turn into evil, and would be buried in the darkness born from darkness.

Kobanê is the herald of the age of dignity, Kobanê is the music of the naked heart, Kobanê is the magic of love, Kobanê is the epic of children dazzled by the magnificence of a belief that doubt cannot reach. The wicked mind can take intelligence to the peak of stupidity; invasive passion can filter emotion through the corridors of discord. If thought has hit the folds of music that finds eternity in waves, if the heart that has reached the peak of feeling has opened leaf by leaf with the intuition of the cool moonlight on boundless fiery deserts, then the melody that grasps life from its source would once again bathe every living being in the glory of its first breath.

The children of Kobanê, who carried the loneliness of those suffering all over the world like the most beautiful poem of all ages, who instilled this state of mind in others and shared the sublimity that gave it the power to contemplate, among all humanity... The children of an ancient country that seemed unwilling to bow to the decrees given by colonialism, which was eager for perversion, or the civilized world, which loved the dead... Every sinner who had oppressed people's minds and taken their souls would see this; the joyful children of a people who had made the joy of a divine love their music, would silence this perverse cry, which barbarity, which could not avoid crime, had taken on. The dream we had seen was real. Because this was Kobanê; that last great oasis of humanity where gazes were expressed with light, hearts with music, thoughts with poetry, love with colors, passion with magic.

Honor Front! From the pen of a woman who left her footprints on every inch of her country's soil, who knitted every voice, every face, every sentence with her heart...