My Ingushetia

My Ingushetia

Along the rocky roads I roam, alone,
Where years are carved in blood and stone.
Oppression tempers dreams so true,
And souls breathe free in towers anew.

After the weight, relief will rise,
Tested souls are loved by skies.
Though tyrants wait with cruel decree,
The people’s voice will still be free.

The elder’s tears like iron fall,
Yet lawlessness refines us all.
No storm has washed our spirit thin,
It plants deep strength and faith within.

So much of sorrow we have known,
My people’s trials have widely grown.
With noble hearts and courage high,
No taste of thanks has passed us by.

With broken hearts we bore the pain,
And chewed through grief again, again.
Yet a radiant path awaits ahead,
By hope and destiny we’re led.

All trials passed, and blessings near,
No shadow left, no trace of fear.
No regret for what has been—
You live, endure, my homeland seen:
My Ingushetia.