The echoes of those lies...

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The stories that I told myself to ease the lonely ache now haunt my waking moments, the promises they break. •The phantom comfort, woven in the night, Now claws at dawn, and steals away the light. •I built a fortress, from illusions spun, But shadows creep, and battles are begun. •Each whispered 'maybe,' each imagined grace, Returns a specter, in this empty space. •The echoes of those lies, a constant, chilling sound, Where solace once resided, now only wounds are found.   •The painted smiles, the words I longed to hear, Now twist and mock me, fueled by rising fear. •My heart, a stage where fantasies once played, Now holds a theater, where truths are re-betrayed. •The warmth I sought, within my crafted dream,  Has turned to frost, a cold and bitter gleam.

DOES THE NIGHTINGALE OWN ITS VOICE....

Nightingale is the poet of animals.


 Maybe its voice is beautiful because of the sorrows. It has a beautiful voice because it sings the truth.
whoever hears it whether a heretic, a pagan or a Muslim whether a shepherd, a peasant, or a Sultan on a throne even if they are not aware, they feel that the nightingale sings the truth. its voice is beautiful.
whomever has a heart finds beauty in its voice.

The reason of this beauty is because it's sound of the truth.
Just like the nightingale, all the poets are the nightingales of friendship garden.

Once in a while, from a form like nightingale comes a sound chirping the truth to the east, to the west, to the north, to the south to speak the truth while silent then the voice turns to gold from silver.
When someone talks of the truth, the mind falls silent.

Each era has its own high status.
The word of God is manifested differently in every era. In some eras Philosophers, in other eras theologians became the tool.
Spoken disclosure was the fastest. It passes centuries. It becomes fables in the tongues & poems in the hearts. Does the nightingale own its voice?
-Taptukemre

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