Life As A Writer

Michael Daaboul. 26 y/o from Australia/Melbourne. Digital Designer & Creative Writer.

In paradise they hear us sing, about the horror stories on Earth during the wars they bring. We tried to stay strong and fearless, but the haunting artillery was no match for our voices. They forced us in hibernation and we became weak and scared. We gave in, we needed food and water. They stripped us of our defences and tore our clothes off. There was no other way of knowing, in this paradise, that they would have their way with us when they were staring right into our eyes.
Michael Daaboul
hi there! i found your blog a while back (and i didn't have a tumblr) and i read this one really good piece and i was wondering if you can send me link? i don't have the link but it was a conversation between a dreamer and his subconscious ((i was in love with it for ages!)) thanks love
I’m alone and I feel the darkness of the night has come over me. Fear has taken my heart and everyone I know has run away. I hold on to my teddy and hold on so tight, I sing a song my mother used to sing to me when father wasn’t home to try and lie to me about how everything will be fine. I saw it in front of my own eyes when they took her. It’s not the night I’m afraid of, it’s the cowards in tanks, that have taken everything I have ever loved away from me.
Michael Daaboul
We’re at war again and they have fed us lies. The innocent die and those hiding wonder when all of this is going to end. It’s easy for us here to not listen to the bombardment of shells; it’s easy to forget the children who are covering their ears, shutting their eyes so tight. They will sit there not knowing why their mother and father had died, why their brother and sister have been wounded. And they have come to realise, they don’t ever want to know why, they just wanted everything to be alright.
Michael Daaboul
Will she go to Heaven; will you ever see her again? It makes you so angry the people in this world have forsaken you. You try to forget, but then it consumes your mind again and you remember it all. And you wish you had all the time once more, with her, just one more day. I want to know God, will I ever meet her again. You haven’t given me a sign and you have broken my heart again and again and you won’t tell me or end my misery, tell me, will I meet her again?
Michael Daaboul
I won’t be coming back home, this is war and nobody wins. I’m stuck in a conflict that I can’t control or have the power to save my soul. I have no more motivation or desire to live from what I have seen. The terror is real on the other side, the monsters are real. When the enemy looked at me after killing my family, I knew he was giving me one more chance to see the permanent reminder of what has become a reality for the people I loved. And then, he pulled the trigger.
Michael Daaboul
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