Take a handful of dust from Misurata

It's six thirty in the evening, I'm in a coffee shop in the center of Ottawa Downtown .In Ottawa where I lived, worked and studied for over 5 years. The heat of the few days of the summer in Ottawa made me remember the hot breezes of city of Misurata. Often a question wraps around and presses my body ,my soul and my heart, when will I see the tyrant vanishes away on my dear homeland, so I can breathe freedom after it has been washed with the blood of martyrs' bones?.

The tyrant prepared a war machine led by his criminals sick children, along with tens of thousands of mercenaries from all quarters, mainly Africans, occupying, destroying, burning and raping following the orders of  Muammar Gaddafi to hurt his Libyan's people. All revolutions the Arab regions faced violence, but a revolution in Libya had a uniqueness to it. This is based on the uniqueness of Gaddafi's bloody dictatorship personality .Gaddafi was superior to all of the giants and tyrants, for the first time in history, waging war on his people.

The youth of Misurata raised the pyramids of blood and spread the fragrance of freedom. Misurata the steadfastness and the confrontation, Stalingrad of the century and the icon of freedom. I walked in the spirit of life, and wrapped her[Misurata] name on the conscience of the world, and chanted to the conscience of human grandeur. O soul of a national song, O my age, and chills and sentimental, I send you a call of love, Loving you is a sign out of respect to you and magnifications. My love, you donated blood, flesh and soul, engraved the crown of your freedom your. Misurata you are an expression of rejection of the occupation and submission.



Thanks to our young people rables who pushed tyrant away and protect our women and children in Misurata.