- in the name of Allah -

Sometimes when I look down, peering at puddles past, it all seems so small, such a melancholy round. An earth with no neighbors, out of touch from other kinds of life, struggles alone, carried by a dream and hope inside. So many little pieces and puzzles, fitting and flitting, whirring and whizzing, meshing while totally mistaking, where's their direction? Such small desires, a plate of warm food on a cold night, the familiar scent of a familiar sight. Where's my cue in all this hectic hither-tither, to push or pull, to lay down my arms or pull the trigger? So many road signs, posted just below the vision, just out of sight, just about taken for granted, while people, including myself, run around pretending we're prophets of times past, our Tablet being our forsaken inhibitions.

Oh God, Oh Allah, Oh Fashioner of the Heavens and Earth, Oh Everliving, Oh Everlasting: I beg thee - save me from my self, from all of this. Ameen.