Salam Allah 3lykm,
Life is ridiculously fast-paced; December's already here, and 2013 is about to come to an end in less than 30 days. Surprisingly, my 'inner poet' sprung awake today after a long slumber; once again, all scrambled thoughts. I don't think anyone will be able to understand the actual meaning behind what I've written, which is okay.
Do I have what it takes to survive, or will this struggle be the death of me? This is taking a heavy toll on my life, and is eating away at my sanity.
Should I leave, I will probably be replaced. Staying would only cause grief, having left the greatest solace.
I don't want this to be my biggest regret; I need some time to recuperate. As blissful as it might get, it takes great strength to accept your Fate.
Only ink knows the scars etched into my heart; tales of betrayal, hypocrisy, and hate. 'Reading between the lines' is merely a start; only my Lord knows of my truest state.
Ink spills over as I try to make sense of my internal battles; forming words and sentences snaking like chains and shackles. Do I really gain 'freedom', as I write my troubles down? Or is this just a medium that'll have me shackled to the ground?
Will sentences I write of my struggle, be held taut against my neck? Will my attempt to salvage sanity be the shovel, that buries me under dirt with the dead?
Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3aala w Barakateh