- in the name of Allah - 

I suppose all I am is a meager man of meager means who dreamt a dream too large for his britches so they split evenly at the seams, leaving him breathful when all he wanted was just one breathless scene of love requited and fulfilled before life robbed his soul and made his only effort vainly seem. every path every road every chance every mode every seed's possibility kept frozen in winter's endless glow, just all appear as fated tracks for men to walk so they earn their title at life's long awaited end. gazing beneath the surface seeing the methods to madness where trial and conflict are woven into reality's purpose, it's so hard to imagine how insidious the system really is when the depth of our trial is a pill I barely tasted yet it seems its eventuality is the only end to fathom for one fathomless. all around the only thing impressing my vision is this prison I'm kept locked in, life itself even though I built myself a tiny gilded cage within the manic storms of fate kicking people about when they haven't had enough of a beating to learn their place. I wish women didn't need money or wealth to be so well bought or dealt, needing castles with fanciful towers to flee to from their nightmare of monotony's march or husbands faced by prospects dour. I'll never quite grasp how people cannot see that the simplest path to happiness isn't found laced by worldly things that can be held in hand but by that which brightens the soul to find and in it one becomes whole, a mechanism to see beyond the shine and show of folly's gold, God I wish people were not fickle so. as it must be by definitions Webster's Oxford and others well-known, tragedies must exist and unfold to have their spectacle as sights for all watching to behold, a lesson in fables or fallacies one can never be certain till the end finally falls on this dreadful act's closing curtain.