Sometimes, I feel the need to muster armies of resistance to stand tall in my world.

Dear one, the best thing you can offer yourself throughout your life is a strong spirit that does not soften nor break.

It is proven that the best treatments for a weary soul are to surround it with what exhausts it, what kills within it the void of time and the luxury of tranquility, and surrendering to pain.

The worst thing a rogue in your life does is force you to hobble in your world, opposing your nature.

Every repulsive act you are forced to engage in kills the cells of tranquility that protect you from fear and preserve your peace.

I reject the data of this era, I am a person of "old precision". I believe in the value of love, which is worth its weight in gold.

I believe in complementarity, love of goodness, and sowing seeds of love. I don't have a combative sword, nor do I utter deterrent words when I'm angry.

I am accustomed to swallowing my wounds and what the harsh people gnaw at my heart. I rarely talk about what hurts me, and I see it as a discussion that saddens those who love me, so I abstain from it.

I believe I have a mission that no one can perform on my behalf. I am extremely grateful to Allah Almighty, who has generously bestowed upon me years of life to work, to love, and to leave behind much affection and the beauty of presence.

As a child, I imagined that my simple thinking about some of my needs was a waste of time, but I learned otherwise in the hardest and most severe ways. Today, I prefer to carry my heart gently and kindly, and I don't overburden myself.

I am an old precision... because I still believe in many values that time has passed over.

I don't lie or flatter anyone, I'm not hypocritical, I'm as straightforward as a sword, sharp in injustice, I don't fear anyone because anyone who has flattered me has done so deservedly. I don't speak about you in your absence except for what you've done yourself in front of me, I avoid arrogance and love patience, and fear between them that my heart may turn to stone.

I strive to adhere to the values of truth, respect, and moral virtues, but I won't lie to you, my friend, often I don't find anyone who knows them, and I've become dusting them off so much they have become an old, worn-out commodity.

I admit that I see myself as naive in many of my old, valuable beliefs that time has passed over, and I don't really know if I was right or wrong when I raised my children on them.

Today, I don't have the luxury of knowing those answers, but I implore God to do them justice with the beauty of their hearts.

Every matter related to the values you acquired from your upbringing and your religion stands at times as a barrier between you and yourself, between you and straying from the truth or reaching madness.

Today, I feel the blaze of embers in my hand whenever I cling to those virtues as they burn me alone.

I deeply appreciate those who speak with strength and pride, those who do not soften before adversity or look down upon the broken.

Although it seems you've gained an unlimited ability to defend your honor, sometimes you don't have the luxury to exercise that authentic right.

Today, I truly wonder, did I make a mistake? Would it have been better to learn some of the preventions of transgressions and the rejection of disappointments? Does this era have the capability to balance on the blade of the sword of truth? Oh God, I know that honesty is a savior… but you witness today how liars take those lavish seats atop the rubble of my life.

I wait for your justice as I pant, and a deluge is behind me.

Today, my mind's memory has taken away some of the dear specters, while my heart's memory is impaired by a biological defect. It was born naturally and wronged by the transient.

I need healing resources, a share of recovery, love, and unwavering support.

Every time the seasons of kindness pamper me... I am worn out by the seasons of transgressors' sins.

I lack armies of rebels to dispel the darkness that took my place in this world, and many, many volunteers who are skilled at mending fractures, healing the soul, and clearing the forehead.

Today, I am the heart of the battle, the warrior, the booty, and the victory ground. I do not like these battles to wound my face as they did my heart, but I will fight until my last breath.

Today, I need all the love I once gave, and I now realize that most of my courage lies in renunciation, not in fighting.

I understand well the effects of time on my days, and I strongly believe in the beauty of their end. Between this understanding and certainty resides a patient human who refuses to let go of a righteous nature that constantly sacrifices him.

I fight for the early harvest, to remain full of myself as I know and love myself, to remain in my view that friend whom I loved more than I hated.

Let me live alone if necessary. That lump of clay still longs for life and refuses to be broken by a miser.

Those harmful weeds that grew in the bends of my heart... I alone can eliminate them, I alone can crush them, and I alone know where the lifebuoy hides.

The transient visitors will not deform me, this heart will always have room for the residents.

Love conquers all evils and all plots, love is my weapon that I leave everywhere, and love unconditioned by time or era is all the courage I showcase to appear as this human being I started as, and as I wish to live in the leased years of life.