- in the name of Allah -



What does it mean when someone you barely thought you knew sticks by you like rubber on glue, and any misspoken word sent their way just bounces on through? It's as if a star fell from the sky, right in my mind, bore an idea that planted a seed that's growing inside. But must always the fruit of light be light? Can it be safe from the darkness, that creeps from day to day in this petty pace, 'till once again falling to night? Alas, it isn't always the intentions' paths that seeds follow, but rather they grow their own colors and shapes to construe or undo parental hopes bled nearly dry. Still, I know this star glows and yet keeps glowing, while my shadows surround it, suffocating it yet it survives in defiance of reason. Akin to the Boy Who Lived, an Idea Who Never Took, but only gave.