(Intro – spoken)
America…
I don’t come with rage,
I come with the weight of a nation
you once held,
then let slip through your fingers.
Just listen.
(Verse 1)
There’s a silence in my homeland
that even mountains can’t contain,
A grief too old for children,
too deep for words to explain.
You came to us with banners,
promises glowing bright,
And for a moment we believed
darkness could turn to light.
But time reveals the truth
that people rarely say,
And everything you left behind
still bleeds in quiet ways.
(Pre-Chorus)
I’m not here to blame you…
I’m here to remember
the pieces we lost
beneath your shadow.
(Chorus – female harmonies)
Oh America… can you hear us now?
The dreams we held when you were near,
The silence after your vow.
We’re still here, carrying the weight,
Still hoping the world understands,
That all we ever wanted was a chance,
A moment to heal our land.
(Verse 2)
You spoke of freedom’s future,
you said hope had a name,
But every promise whispered
fell softly and never stayed.
Now the hands you pay today
are the ones that dimmed our skies,
The same shadows we begged you
to stop from rising.
But America… this isn’t anger,
just a letter from a broken nation—
From a boy who watched family
turn into fading constellations,
Still carrying their memory
like a quiet flame.
(Pre-Chorus 2)
We’re not asking you to return…
Just see what your leaving
taught us to endure.
(Chorus – female harmonies)
Oh America… can you hear us now?
The voices you once stood beside,
The shadows that linger somehow.
We rise because we must,
We hope because we can,
And even in endless sorrow,
We remain a stubborn land.
(Bridge – poetic)
If justice had a heartbeat,
it would tremble in our hands.
If peace had a language,
we’d whisper it through the sand.
Your silence is the loudest weight we carry.
(Final Verse)
So this is my whisper across oceans,
my truth drifting in the wind—
Not to shame you,
but to remind you
of the world you stepped within.
America…
we are still here.
Still standing.
Still mourning.
Still hoping
the world remembers
that Afghan pain has a name,
a history,
a pulse—
and it still beats
even when nobody listens.
(Outro – soft)
This isn’t blame.
This is remembrance.
This is a nation
that deserved more
(The lyrics and poetry is dobe by Zakir Alami)
ZakirAlami
