-in the name of Allah-


The words you wrote were precisely the words I felt, an echo resounding of the hands we've each been dealt. You take your path and I take mine, yet I feel this pain is lovely and departure now is only a means to arrival in time. If words were words when still unspoken or unheard, then bitterly sweet would exactly be the phrase to describe why one accepts the dosage of He who fate decides. If you knew my state as it stands, you'd see a man still in quicksand but holding tightly to a few threads he learned back when his vision wasn't running from him nightly. Still, I reverberate with "ameen", for you know my story much better than I previously gleaned.


My words are folly, like this attempt at writing where the hook's in the water but the fish aren't biting. You should see all the times I forumlated compositions in my mind with unequivocal eloquence only to see them fade into forgottenness, but alas this is the road I take and the role I held in having made at least one playground safe, if only for a time- though now its a danger to dream, if you open up the book again, it may come apart from the seams. I owe you at least what you did for me, though I've faults too numerous to list; I repay honesty with its twin in imagery.


I'll write soon, once, inshAllah.