He does not carry our soul, our story, or our spirit. He hijacked our name — not our truth.
Khamenei and his regime speak in the name of Iran. They wrap themselves in its flag, its religion, and its history. But they are not Iran. They are the distortion of it.
Iran is not control. It is not fear. It is not bunkers, veils of lies, or secret prisons. Iran is poetry, fire, longing, music, resistance — and the freedom to speak without trembling.
Iran is Ferdowsi and Khayyam. It is the voice of women in the wind. It is the silence of exiled artists, the chants of students, the hands of mothers searching for truth.
It is not a regime — it is a civilisation. And the regime fears that. That is why it censors, jails, and kills.
The Persian people are not free. They are not represented. They are watched, silenced, taxed, and crushed. The more they resist, the more the regime claims to “speak for them.”
But real nations don’t need to be forced to follow. They follow from love. The regime only survives through fear.
Khamenei sends missiles across borders, funds chaos, and calls it resistance — but none of this is Iran. These wars are his, not ours. These enemies are his, not ours.
He uses “Iran” as a shield while dragging its name through blood and ruin.
If Khamenei truly led a nation, his support would rise from within it. But the loudest voices praising him aren’t Persian — they are extremists from Pakistan, Afghanistan, and beyond.
He is admired by those who don’t live under him — and rejected by those who do.
The real Iran speaks in quiet acts of courage. In whispered prayers. In encrypted poems. In burned veils and buried sons.
The real Iran is not Khamenei. It is everything he tried to silence.