Memories never fade.. I saw him, with my bare eyes, being taken to his own graveyard. He did the right thing and he was punished. He raised his voice, for the masses and he was humiliated. He made them speechless and they dragged him along the ground. I doubt if revolution showed him mercy but he wasn't afraid . . His dream, when I met him, was to lead an ordinary life, with me, of course. Then he dreamt of freedom. From the ever superior and powerful hands that burried people's rights deep down. Then his dream became the nation's. Then he dreamt of people's lives, which he knew, would do him no good. None at all. All he wanted was to stand up and raise his voice so that both the powerful and the weakling could be heard. And he did. So they feared. A hundred battles were fought before they could trap him. He fought with fire in his eyes, that shattered many a hands which harmed the fellows, cruelly. 'Mighty Warrior' , he was called. Immortal name for a morta