Secrets of My Diary: #32. Nights of Vengeance.

​Sometimes I want to sleep like to never have to wake up again.

And I want to fly to the lands of the scars of all those lives I had touched.

I want to leave this place for some time.

While regaining my lost possessions, I want to listen to the cries of people.

The haunts of those men who’ve been buried deep within the layers of the demeaning hell.

I want to be scared of the afterlife, and of the results too.

I want to feel how does it feel to stand before Allah.

I want to implant the faith of my fortunes and the striving forces of the genuineness of my heart.

And I want to get the job done before I die.

Sometimes I wonder…

“What do we fear?

Is it,






Death does all of the above on the whole.

No dead has ever returned to life ever. And to the precision of it, no dead has died ever again. Because in some way or the other, their names live in the hearts of those who’ve died before them and those who’d die after them too.

My Dad has always taught me,

“Great is not the one who rules. Great is one who wishes for other what he wishes for himself.”

“I don’t wish to be great Dad. I don’t want people to know me. I don’t want them to look at me and judge me by the way I look. I don’t want them to follow me.

All I want is to give them hope. To help them realize that they are not fighting their battles alone. There are people who are struggling the same way they’ve been doing with a slight difference in the way one feels and the degree to which one is sensitive. I want to keep doing all of the good things for people and die unnoticed.”

“And that my dear is the greatest thing one can do as a human being”, he added.


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