- in the name of Allah -


sometimes echoes can be like scissors or storms, cutting aside indifferences and apathies to claim a crown no matter how far its been worn. sometimes the cuts are straight and at others jagged, sometimes the metal pulls the fabric so hard it runs the fiber ragged. sometimes the clouds carry hail and at other times rain, sometimes it softly pelts the skin so the message reaches the brain. my sum is but an echo trapt in amber, a waiting patient for his dua to find their answer.