Whispers Between the lines

 I walked the miles you wouldn’t tread, Carried love you left unsaid. Each step a hope, each pause a plea, You froze mid-step, lost in stale air. I stitched my silence into thread, While you spun lies instead of care. I held the weight, I bore the cost You called it love, I call it loss. You watched me burn and stayed composed, Turned every open door you closed. I gave you grace you didn’t earn, And waited long past my own turn. You never asked, you never stayed, Just watched the debt I slowly paid. And when I broke, you turned your face As if you’d never known the place. Now every mile I walked for you Feels poisoned, blackened, cracked in two. Not every path is paved with worth Some roads just rot back into earth. So keep your silence, keep your pride, I’ll keep the truths you tried to hide. A lesson scorched in brutal style: Not every mile is worth the mile... Nidal Sati

 Close the curtains on conversations when the silence between replies could stretch into the length of a movie... Don’t reach for those who need a reason to reach for you. Stay with the ones who invent excuses just to whisper your name even if their words are fleeting, fragile, small , or shallow.. Because real care hides in quiet gestures, in perfect timing, in the reaching, in the gentle insistence of trying. Someone’s effort is the truest mirror of how deeply you matter... Nidal Sati

 Learn to read the silence between words,   To see your worth through what is done, not said.   Do not assume,   Do not twist your thoughts To guess their hidden feelings It is not your duty to decipher hearts,   Nor to craft excuses from shadows.   Know when to stop giving chances,   When to stop justifying absence.   Let people rise or fall in your life   By the weight of their presence Not the burden of your effort alone. Nidal Sati

 In the deep stillness of my endless night,   I wandered alone Unmoved by tears,   Unshaken by cries. If departure draws near,   Let it come I am not like you,   I do not fear   When the path is lost to us. In my own illusion,   I walked alone,   Unafraid of the road,   Or the torment of the impossible. I shall go on Unafraid of the ruthless wind   Should it rise Content with little. I will not force my steps to find a way,   No…   I will not search in my own ruin   For another love... Nidal Sati