I read over the phonetics of Al Kawthur, mindlessly drawing circles connected by lines on the paper.
The point was to tell Allah, my thoughts as I read slowly overe each line. A report, what happened, what the shishka man, that's 8 years of saying, crying, reaching. I read the first line, and said:
This is him.
The third line, I stared at the lines and circles. I rolled up every single, word or action he had made, into the ayah.
I see this is silly to you. Or, what a shiska man is.
Or why I tell you.
Or why in this third ever post, he got killed,
Black magic against Black.
I heard he would get Hell.
A vendetta that seems to you;
A longtime of War. A never-ending battle. And Unwanted...
I believed what I heard over the Surah.
I wiggled my ears, and listened to where-ever the shiska man could be. I heard a scream, and saw a man fall to his knees.
I believed, that. But I repeated again and again what had happened to Heaven.
And women cried, and I screamed, and I leapt, and I knifed, and I ran, and I stopped.
And the Fear was:
That every death is soul, most men lie, he twists into your mind, dirt and hisses. his dead-soul cackles, he gets freedom when they're worse, he has killed freedom. He laughs at Haloes, with spits and curses. He blues a witch, but burns her pretty hair, twists in fell, and claps back to me, when he is at the most of his hate. He wears the dirt. He bleeds fairer. He licks ugly. Tastes Satan. He burns happy. He drives...he spat. He cursed. He blacks your wife like he is special. He winks, he fights her. He gets through to her in her mind, and he makes her weep. She prays for help. I curse. I curse Heaven, and I'm mindless, I'm blanker, I'm no lover. I'm weaker. There is no protect her.
I burn red through skin and veins and blood. I don't pity.
I learn the worse.
I go to sleep.
I never pity.
I lack Love, and weep.
I can see now.
Never, never, never. She is weeping to Allah.
I am force hatred.
Her soul is weeping. I burn knife. I burn like dagger. I fight...
I call and call and fight and fight.
And I want no more of him. I want him to flame, and vanish.
"I will Kill."
"I have Never Love."
I blame force men and holy men.
I fight like I am Damnation.
I carry the curse.
I don't kiss.
It lives it lives.
I get superstitious. Place that there, or here, and he will appear.
I never care.