He was the pride of my family, cousin to my father, yet I knew better the sound of his voice and the lines of his face drawn out upon my television screen; everyday he was there. Every night, and every morning, and every time he spoke I heard his bittersweet song.

In a heart flow of grace, he took your hand in his, and to you he spoke the words, "Trust me". He sang songs of freedom to feed your war-scarred souls, and before they broke his body, he broke his heart for you so that you may have a piece. Then his hand left yours, and his soul soared to follow his own path of freedom.

Yet the warmth of his hand never left yours, and the music of his song still echoes in your ears. To the country that he loved eternally: Lebanon, wipe away your tears. Listen to his now seemingly silence. Gibran still speaks!

He speaks a message to be delivered; a message for all the people of his great country. A message for every single child of tomorrow, a message for every milkman, every sheikh. A message for every attendee of the mosque, church and birthright of the Druze, for every man and woman that lives with a religion of their own. For every bride and for every groom and for every hardworking member of sukleen. For every Mohanna, Muhammed and migrant worker; every Ahmad, Aisha and Asiya.

For you he spoke his unfiltered truth so that you may speak yours.

To you he made a Pledge, and to him you pledged your word.

For you he was not afraid when death looked him in the eye and to you, all of you, he gave a sense of strength far greater than steel.

Strength of unity not to be broken by hand or sword; never disturbed by the harshest of winters nor the blackest of nights. The War is over now; Truth must be saved and a pledge must be fulfilled.

Take then the hand of your neighbor, whether he be once enemy or friend, and before you light a candle for the martyrs of Truth, unlock your very own voice of the truth from within your heart, and let it be heard. Speak in protest; speak in song, and speak your truth until you can speak no more.

The truest Truth will not be disguised by race or color, nor shielded by religion or war. Truth will be naked, and truth will be exposed, and while a fight for truth may take from our embrace great and powerful men, our friends and those whom we hold dearest to our hearts, it will never take away the freedom of our voice and our faith in the sunrise.

To those who disgraced him they are but the most cowardly of cowards. What is a man when his body is all he's worth? Gibran Tueni was no such a man. Gibran was a man of great heart and song, and Gibran was a man of dignity and Truth. His face everyday I will not see, his opinion in the media I will not hear. But his song I will never forget, as it echoes through Beirut in the mountains of the Chouf to the valleys of Qadisha; here he will sing, and here his people will hear him.

Go now, and do not be afraid. As long as his music is played Gibran is Alive. Play his music. Speak your truth. Sing for him Lebanon, sing your songs of freedom.

*Rest in peace Gibran. Every Lebanese heart is crying for you now, but look at you, now you are truly free.*

Source: Ya Libnan