THE REVENGE: EPISODE 3, RECOVERY

Home bitter home.

I have returned home at a point of no return. The doors may be opened, but the windows are all shut tight. The sun may give the light at day, but darkness surrounds me is as in the night. Holding on to candles for vision, but surely candles will worn out in time, and all visions are lost in space. Through the darkness I may knock my head on the wall, or fall down the stairways, but nothing hurts more than you hit me in the light. Do not worry about me, my experience in the cave helped me to differ between the Darkness and the Light.

Sitting alone at a corner of the room with my hands wrapped around my knees. Looking back at the pictures of memories; The memories of when I wrapped my hands around faith. Why is it never easy to believe? Believe is the only easy thing that you can think of. Crystal liquids wet the cheeks. I very much value the treasure of feelings, even after you ripped and raped the sanctity of my emotions. At least I could feel what I feel when I write this. Do you feel what you feel when you rewrite me?

Soft is this bed, but my heart is as hard as rock. You may break this bed of which I seek comfort at into pieces, but you can never break my heart of which I cling security to like those meat fleshes that you used to consume. Now my heart, beats like you are meant for. It is due to your presence that make me breathe yet today. This bed just has a sheet; Enough to keep me warmth through the cold night, of which you never gave.

“There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state to another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life.” - Alexandre Dumas

Sleep. Closed eyes but I will look forward.

Now. Repay.

THE REVENGE: EPISODE 2, REPRISE

Wheels stopped.

It is never winter here, but it feels so cold especially when you are alone.  Hiding in a cave for far too long makes you blind of the moonlight above. But I, nevertheless, pray that the Light above would guide my path. My feet never felt so numb from walking. It is like walking on the clouds of debris; sludged, but the walk must go on. It is not funny when I had betted my life, and I lost the game. Your mercy still does not stop you from plundering your fortune. I guess it gives you happiness by piling up your pride and ego. Least that you know that your greed will devour you instead. You have my life now, well I hope you live well.

So here I am now, it is in the shelter of other people's lives where I seek to live. Knocking on the door of home, hoping that someone would answer. Knocking on the door of hope; no one would listen but yourself.

"A home is not a mere transient shelter: its essence lies in the personalities of the people who live in it." - Henry Louis Mencken

My feet need recession. Rest aside.
Now. Relay.

THE REVENGE: EPISODE 1, RESPITE

*pause*

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*beats*

*pause*

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*sigh...*

The wheel just spins.  

Lessons learned, but they are never remembered. Nothing can be done today, so I just wait. I am really confused. In just a split seconds, it can take your strength and guts away. In split seconds, you are being dismembered and dismantled. I just wish I could paste  happiness on the face of these scars, and cut my misery and stitch it in the back of my mind. Nothing is right where it should be. Wounds can heal, but I cannot hide the scars. In the dark, these scars luminesce, glow in despair and regret.

A year was then kept in silence. Hidden in the caves of thoughts, of how I was thinking of rewriting the space and time. It has been a long, long night. Cold. How could you have grown in my stomach and make me puke? For a year I have eaten for what is left of my guts, and I think you should know how this would taste like. I am completely dismantled, all thanks to you. Who we are, are all that in you. I write out our rights towards the salvation of mankind. But who will salvage me?

"There is a certain embarrassment about being a storyteller in these times when stories are considered not quite as satisfying as statements and statements not quite as satisfying as statistics; but in the long run, a people is known, not by its statements or its statistics, but by the stories it tells." - Flannery O'Connor

 

It is cold. But I want to go home.
Now. Replay.

COMMEMORATOR OF A DISORIENTED BELIEVER, DIVISION TWO: IN THE LAST CHAPTER, HEREAFTER BEGINS; PART I

RESPITE AND DESPITE

This is something that no one has ever heard of, 

I have been looking up to You lately so often,
You look so Great up there far beyond one can imagine,
Well I hope one time, You would come down to my dream,
And gives some love to this man that needed it most,
Or some signs of what I have done wrong.
I know that I wanted that good enough,
And I have hoped now day and night,
To not to disobey You,
To not to disregard You,
Like however I used to,
I will always be following You,
And I swear that I will be fighting for You,
And for all of us just like how You do,
At least in the many things that I had done,
There could be a few deeds,
To savour with the others,
The victory that we are destined to have,

Is to be up there with You.
For now, we need You in our dreams.

This post is dedicated to whomsoever that seeks the strength and love, from Allah swt and Prophet Muhammad SAW in this glorious month of Ramadhan. We dream of the same dream.