When the sound of the call to prayer was shattered by the echoes of artillery, and when tyrants stole the dreams of childhood, when blood stifled the cries for freedom, and chains fettered the wings of dignity, the Syrian Revolution was born from the pulse of a people determined to break the chains of tyranny. They emerged chanting: “Death over dishonor.”
Despite all the tragedies, the will of the people remained unbroken. On December 8, the chains were shattered, the tyrant fell, and hope was born from the depths of pain. Syrians stood to rebuild what the war had destroyed, to tell the world that freedom is the most precious thing in life. From Damascus, a door opens to the heavens, in the land of Sham, miracles are touched with hands from Mount Qasioun, which witnessed the people’s pain and dreams, to Aleppo and its fortress that withstood the test of time, to the Mosque of Khalid Ibn Al-Walid in Homs. Cities united by wounds and dreams, and Sednaya Prison remains a stain of disgrace on the forehead of tyrants. But the people will write a new dawn for their nation, a dawn where there is no place for injustice and the corrupt.
Despite all the tragedies, the will of the people remained unbroken. On December 8, the chains were shattered, the tyrant fell, and hope was born from the depths of pain. Syrians stood to rebuild what the war had destroyed, to tell the world that freedom is the most precious thing in life. From Damascus, a door opens to the heavens, in the land of Sham, miracles are touched with hands from Mount Qasioun, which witnessed the people’s pain and dreams, to Aleppo and its fortress that withstood the test of time, to the Mosque of Khalid Ibn Al-Walid in Homs. Cities united by wounds and dreams, and Sednaya Prison remains a stain of disgrace on the forehead of tyrants. But the people will write a new dawn for their nation, a dawn where there is no place for injustice and the corrupt.
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