Whispers of The Night by Hadil Diaf - HTML preview

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My Dear Old Friend the Moon

Oh, old friend, do you remember our fugitive talks of the night, me whispering to the wind all what my heart bleeds for, and you waving to me in the wind, telling me to hold on, telling me to keep breathing hope even if it seems to be nothing but a lost myth, telling me to smile even when I crack in tears, not finding time to breathe. “Don’t cry too much.” You said, “You might suffocate by your painful tears someday.” But, is it better to keep them trapped inside, willing to explode at any moment, taking my life along?

Oh, old friend, I miss the times we looked into each other’s bright side, thinking of what might the dark one looked like, wandering in our reflections for so long that even time stops, that even the skies collapse in-between, attracted by the force of our unified souls.

Do you remember when you were smiling at me as a child, telling me that my future is bright, that I should not fear the upcoming and be prepared for greatness? You see, Moon, I miss those times, where I had big hopes and bigger ambitions, where I felt that I can actually change the world into the utopian life I have always dreamed of, that I could become everything I’d want to be. I miss that hope, that confidence, that willingness to defeat the world and set my mind and thoughts free again. I miss believing in myself and believing that everyone is my friend, that everywhere is my home. I miss the innocence and ignorance of the child I was. I miss the dreams I drew every night before going to sleep. I miss trusting the future me to achieve what I always dreamt to have and be. I miss being able to rely on what’s around me, believing naively, that everything would open the paths of success to me. I miss the night, Moon. I miss the nights you talked to me. I miss the nights you comforted me. I miss the cold breeze reminding me to keep my mind and soul fresh and alive, reminding me to breathe deeply and expect good things from life, reminding me that every little pain will fade away with the first breeze you send to tickle me and make me feel you close, right next to me, embracing my fragile soul and healing my little scars with your light. I miss our silent talks, I miss our imaginary walks, and I miss you so badly, my dear old friend, the Moon!

Look in the Mirror

Look in the mirror, my darling, do you see your reflection?

Do you see your face, your body, and all their imperfections?

Do you feel the pain you hide inside, and the tears you heart bleeds?

Do you see the chaos inside of your mind; do you see the many faces fear has collected inside of your soul?

Do you feel the agony of your spirit, and the urge to go away from this world, away from space and time?

Look again, my darling, you’ll see the perfect in your imperfections, the strength in your pain and the courage in your fear.