Never Want to See…

Recently a stream of Armenian-on-Armenian violence has captured headlines in Southern California. Among the most tragic is the story of Mike Yepremyan, a 19 year old Armenian who was shot to death in a Sears parking lot in North Hollywood by another Armenian after they argued about a text message.

Mike Yepremyan and his parents (above) are the latest in a growing list of victims afflicted by inter-communal violence among Armenians. Mike’s murder occurred against the backdrop of a festering criminal culture fostered by Armenian television shows (like “Immigrants”) glorifying a mafioso life of crime, drugs, and murder.

I should like to see any power of the world destroy our race.
Before we do it ourselves…

This small tribe of insignificant people,
Who fought wars to keep their identity,
Who died for inches of land,
Who starved to give their children a chance,
dying on hot sand…
That small tribe of unimportant people,
with more enemies than friends,
With more misery than hope…
Has begun destroying itself.
And we’re nearing the end of our rope.

Violence fills the world,
from wars in the fields to wars in our homes.
Hate fills your heart like gasoline in a bomb,
Waiting for a spark and when that time comes,
The only time you rest is a fist to the face,
Or blasting a hole in their chest.

Martin Luther King once said that a man who won’t die,
for something is not fit to live.
But what about a man who’s willing to kill for nothing.
That man I cannot forgive.
A man who’s never felt, never heard of a thing called brotherhood.
Never understood the meaning of fighting for good.

Go ahead prove your manhood.
Destroy what you think is your enemy.
See if you can do it.
If they come at you with words, respond with fists,
If they come at with you with a bat, you better bring a gun,
And if they shoot well that’s just no fun,
Because dying without revenge means that they’ve won.

What’s with the evil that plagues the male ego,
That makes us puppets of lust and weak people.
Is it a cultural phenomenon?
Touch my badeev and then it’s on,
Or is it society that says life’s so cheap,
That you’re willing to put a complete stranger to sleep.

And all for what…
Because you think that your ego is worth more than a life.
Because you whore the word honor like it’s a badge or a knife.

I know that it takes much more than fists to make a man,
And all it takes are words to make you raging mad.
That anger isn’t because god made you a warrior man,
It’s because you’re confused over how to deal,
Incapable of making a plan.

Think about this while you’re worried about a diss,
There’s a kid in our homeland worried about the hiss,
Of a sniper rifle’s bullet finding its mark in his heart,
On the front lines of a battle field strewn with land mines.
No BMs or Hummers, but with real honor,
Ready to die to protect the land of all his fore-mothers.

You want to fight,
Well there’s a war against our people,
When they take the cross off of a steeple,
Or rewrite the lives of our people,
Are you ready to die to fight the lies,
As they try and trample our people?

The price of life is equal amongst all Armenian people,
Think before you act,
Tell your friends and any other people.

People will read Mike’s story and think absos,
But they will learn to live and laugh again,
And to sing again and I pray,
That when two of us meet anywhere in the world,
We won’t unfurl hatred and anger and kill because of words…

I should like to see any power of this world,
destroy our race…

Before we do it ourselves.