Man of Iron Spirit

At this time now, while we are enjoying the comfort technology brought us. The peace our fore father has provided for us. There is one man still standing on a ground of never ending chaos, where he calls home.
Mr Xanana Gusmão, you herd cows and writes poem, dreaming of a land with no wars and hatred. Fate force you to become a fighter, and destiny make you a man, whom carry what I define as "unfortunate" burden.

You must be tired now after 24 years.

No! You are not allow to get tired, as the land you love, the people you hold dear did not have what they deserve yet. You must fight on, till the day your people can once again walk the street as a free man, without fear that fellow men beside would prosecute them.

I will burn a wish paper for you, that the day your prayer may come soon.