2.
Footsteps and the shadows that evade my straying thoughts,
darkness and the childhood I keep having nightmares about... alone; that’s what
we are but that’s what I was. I look ahead hoping I see us walking like we used
to. Is there something I did wrong? Or is fate telling me there can’t be a you
when I wake up? My love for the black angels and the widow who was white; are
there questions I’ve refused to answer? I will say what I can, I fear no one
besides the Merciful Creator and if there should be fear of the created then
the heart is dripping with soot.
I’m weak; there are no doubts to the frailty of the stick
that stands alone. Maybe I’m that stick that can bend to both ends without
being split into two pieces. I’m here and I’m there but my wish is that I drop
dead with a bullet through the heart I allowed to sin. My wish is that I drop
dead for Allah’s sake. What else is better than selling your life for the bliss
of the hereafter?
I don’t fear you, No! I can’t fear the man who worships the
desires of Allah’s enemies. Cages will only make me like Yusif and bullets will
only make me like the men that bled on Badr. Now tell me who the loser is.
Footsteps towards my dream and the shadows that merely darken the
path I tread...
Alhamdulilah!
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