Here I Am

As honest as I can be; I do not hide in shivers of where my thoughts will take me; digesting a relationship that kept me in a dreadful state of inner war & struggle; a permanent expression of grief, anger & resentment.

Love was never meant to hurt.

Love doesn’t beat you to leave you in doubt, cursing every immodest compromise.

Love shouldn’t birth evil impulses in every breath it takes.  

I blame the weakness rooted in a boy for the way he cursed Love; a boy that is too crippled in his own fears to face his own inadequacies & shortcomings of character, a boy that is too rigid, yes & too blown in an inflated, deluded image of self to think anything deeply wrong with him.

Be aware of the weakest of the wicked; a boy like a misguided blend of contradictory washed-up statements, serving nothing but his own selfishness, leaving more & more disappointments in every course he takes.  

We live in an age crowded with those with the appearance of men, but share nothing of the victorious bravery, dignity, wisdom & good character of the men who walked with our fathers. Those are the unbearable & ignorant kind; fixed in bad habits, slaves to the empty amusements & reflections of the mirror.

Be aware of those ruled by the tasteless behavior of the company they’re with.

We ought to be stopped in our paths by the likes of those, how else are we to know that love was never meant to exhaust nor drain your strength with every attempt? That love was never a superficial effort carrying malicious intents.

There is a false alluring charm that leads you to that frame of abusive love, but be careful behind the frame lies the ugly worms that will disfigure your entire world; turning you into something resembling nothing; a mere anxious & tired spirit.

Love is not a product of the circumstance. That is the destructive kind; that journeys violently in a misuse & abuse of power, sacrificing everything in its ill pursuits. 

Take notice of that stripped deceiving-mask; it will reveal that difficult awful truth.

Do not be carried away with wishful thinking, disappointed hope is always just that, disappointed.

I have drank a poison of the bitterest kind, yet here I am, sharpened & relaxed in my power, in a better & overstretched understanding of myself, my nature & that tender softness I have walked into the belly of the beast with, walked out without losing a drop of. 

الحَمْدُ للهِ