That laughter did not just echo in the air...

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There was a time I spoke of my dreams the way a child speaks of the stars softly, innocently, with affection in my voice.  I shared them not as a burden, not as a demand, but simply as a piece of my heart. And somewhere along the way, my dreams were misunderstood, and the very thing I had trusted with affection  was turned into something to laugh at. That laughter did not just echo in the air, it echoed inside my chest. And something fragile within me shattered quietly. My intention had been pure. My words had been gentle. But still, they were misunderstood. So slowly I learned to hold my heart back, to keep my dreams folded within my silence. Today, while standing in prayer, I spoke of those same dreams again but this time only to Allah. And suddenly I understood something. Those dreams were never meant to be carried by the world. Where my sincerity was misunderstood, Allah understood it before I even spoke. Where my heart once felt small, He made it feel seen. For I always k...

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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