UIC MSA Presents:
December 2013 Issue 3
AlBayyan AlBayyan
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Unveiled Her labored breath resonated off the tall buildings that surrounded her in the narrow alley; her once meticulously curled and styled bun now fell in loose golden tendrils around her face. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see her pursuer standing underneath the gas lamp at the end of the lane, his gold mask glinting in the dim light. Letting out a small cry of helplessness, she looked forward and broke into a run. She lifted up her regal green ball gown just enough to keep her from tripping over it. Again, she looked over her shoulder and found the man gone. With a faint sigh, she stopped running, leaning against a wall to aid her weak knees, her eyes pressed shut as she silently counted her blessings. However, her relief was only short-lived. Her eyes snapped open with the thumping of heavy boots. Pure fear seized her as she stared into the shadows, a faint glint of silver and gold shining in the dim moonlight. She screamed. ***** “Father’s taste has always been too simple for me.” Annabel sighed to her companion as she surveyed the crowd from the balcony through her richly adorned scarlet mask. “Where are the large sculptures of ice? The peacocks? Mary’s peacocks always added such life to her parties.”
to get her married but no one wants her.” She turned to look at the party again, marveling the scene below. Rich, bold colors filled the ballroom as masked lovers twirled across the marble floor. The ballroom itself was grand with gilded pillars and crystal chandeliers dangling above the heads of the attendants; even still, Annabel regarded the majestic ball with a tiresome expression. “Father never did know how to throw parties,” she murmured to herself.
“Annabel,” a voice called softly towards her. She turned and saw her father standing behind her with his usual impassive expression; she had forced herself to smile as pleasantly as she could while she curtsied to her father. James Smith spent every day for the past eighteen years keeping a cold face as he condemned murderers and criminals to prison as a Justice; emotions did not come easy for him, much to her dismay. “Father,” She replied back. It was then that she noticed the stout, nervous-looking old man with a silver mask, and a tall, dashing young gentleman in an elegant frock coat and without a mask standing on either side of her father. The latter man noticed her stare and smiled in a way that caught her breath and stammered her heart. “Annabel, I would like you to meet Thomas Edwards, and his nephew, Henry Foxwoods.” James said, gesturing to the men beside him respectively. Henry stepped forward and bowed, taking Annabel’s Annabel’s companion turned from the party to look at gloved hand and kissing it. The simple gesture made her weak in the knees. “Pleased to make your acher. “But that is because Mary has no personality to quaintance,” Annabel said softly, keeping her gaze contribute to her own part,” she replied snidely. Andowncast. Henry smiled and looked up at her as he nabel lowered her mask and turned to her friend in straightened. “And I, you.” He dropped her hand and surprise, laughing. “Oh, Ingrid, how right you are. Why, just yesterday, Mary tried to get me into a con- stepped back, his eyes never leaving her complexion. “I’m sure you remember Thomas. He is one of my versation about some prisoner who escaped from Greenhaven. I told her it was poppycock and that she school friends.” Annabel nodded automatically, her eyes still on Henry; James did not notice his daughshould not be so gullible. She then told me that I ter’s look. “And Henry is visiting from… Wales, corshould pay more attention to what the papers write rect?” Henry smiled and nodded, “Though I was born instead of staring at a mirror.” She sighed and shook her head. “With a tongue that sharp, no man will ever and raised in England.” want her.” The music from below started to flow into a waltz. The two friends giggled softly. “Oh, you are horrible, Henry looked down at the crowd below them before he looked at the Justice’s daughter, “May I have this Anna.” Ingrid said, her face concealed by her fan as she laughed; Annabel lifted her shoulders in a shrug, dance?” He asked, offering his hand. Annabel looked “But it is true. Her poor mother is trying so diligently at his offer and took a breath before smiling, placing 2
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her hand in his. Shyly, she glanced up at him, her gentle “You may” following. Her expression soon cleared so that it betrayed the giddy butterflies inside of her as she was whisked down the stairs and on to the ballroom floor.
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been shipped off to boarding school, as it had been required of him. After that, they only caught glimpses of each other before he disappeared for his work; he was in some sort of business that required him to travel all around the world. She knew she should have been a little more excited to see her fiancé, but It was then, as they twirled along with the other danc- she could only think about Henry with his charming ers, that she noticed a man in a golden mask. It was smile that made her weak in the knees and the mystenot a strange thing to see people with masks of gold; rious brown eyes on the man that gave her chills in fact, she had seen a more ornately decorated mask when their stares met. just hours before on her own father before he discarded it in distaste. She was so deep in thought about Hen“In the brief moment No, the thing that struck her strange ry and the masked stranger that she did their eyes locked, the man not realize her cousin tugging on her about the man was the way he was looking at her. In the brief moment gave her a cold, hard arm and pulling her through the crowd. their eyes locked, the man gave her stare that she could feel When she finally returned to reality, a cold, hard stare that she could feel even through the expres- she heard Amy mutter bitterly, “… even through the expressionless completely ridiculous. Why would sionless mask, sending mask, sending shudders down her someone decide to have a party where shudders down her spine. Henry seemed to feel her everyone comes masked? Is it truly shudder under his hand as he twirled spine.” that difficult to meet people face-toher, breaking her away from the face? Why did I not ask what mask he man’s stare. “Is something the matter?” Henry asked, would be wearing?” Annabel frowned just a little. looking down at her with concern. Annabel looked up Amy was usually a laughingstock among the circle of and gave him a weak smile, “No. Everything is fine.” women for her simple lifestyle and her accusations of Gazing away from him, she glanced over her shoulthe rich about their ostentatious parties. Annabel nevder. The man in the golden mask was gone, leaving er could stand to see her cousin ridiculed, so she behind only his haunting presence. would always try to change Amy’s views, but the woman would not budge. Despite this, Annabel As the party progressed, Annabel soon forgot about would not give up, “It is a game, dear cousin. A very the man in the gold mask, her attention returning enjoyable game, if you ask me,” she said. Amy snortonce again to the enchanting man before her. She ed with a roll of her eyes. “If these people are so danced with Henry for one last song before he bored that they must hide their identities for enterstepped back and excused himself with a polite bow. tainment, then they should find something more She curtsied in return and watched him leave with a meaningful to do. Like aiding those children in the small smile. slums.” She shook her head in distaste. “Also, not knowing the identity of a guest is a hazard. What if “There you are, Anna!” a shrill voice sounded, break- there was a murderer in the mix? You did hear about ing her out of her reverie. Her unmasked cousin, the prisoner escaping from Greenhaven, right? They Amy, had cried out to her in an attempt to gain her said that he was the prisoner who swore revenge on–” attention as pushed through the crowd. “I have been She was cut off by Annabel’s dismissive wave. “You searching all over for you. Your fiancé is to be here worry too much, Amy. Greenhaven is absolutely sesoon.” Annabel cringed slightly at his mention; she cure. It is impossible to escape from there.” Amy had forgotten that today was also the day that she sighed heavily. “If you say so…” Stopping, she would meet her elusive fiancé. Apparently, Edmund glanced around and huffed, muttering to herself, Keats was the son of a very successful businessman “Where is that fiancé of yours? I swear…” who was a good friend of her father’s. She had not Annabel shrugged without malice and looked around seen him since he was ten and she was five; he had the party curiously. Suddenly, she started to get chills
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down her spine, as though someone was watching her. Turning her head, she met the gaze of the man in the full gold mask, its expression just as impassive as before. An ominous feeling tingled at the base of her spine, crawling up her back and causing her hair to stand on end. Gulping anxiously, she turned to Amy who was still muttering away. “I will be…mingling. Call for me if you manage to find Edmund,” Annabel said before turning and pushing her away through the crowd without waiting for a reply. She had to get out of there, away from the man in the gold mask. She trudged through until she reached the fringe of the crowd towards the door and looked back discreetly. The man in the gold mask was closer now, standing still and staring at her. Annabel’s heart started to beat rapidly, creeping its way into her throat. Quickly, she turned back around and pushed through the last few people to step outside. Trying to keep an unruffled appearance, Annabel’s head was held high as she walked quickly down the stone steps of her mansion and on the cobblestone pathway leading to the street. She could feel every bump and crevice of the stone beneath her thin satin slippers, but that was the least of her worries, as she could hear that the heavy footsteps that echoed not too far behind her. With a small whimper of fear, she quickened her pace and turned into an alley, hoping to lose him. But when she looked back again, he was there, standing at the end of the path, watching her, his gold mask glinting off of the gas lamp. ***** Her scream was only short-lived as the man sprinted up to her and deftly covered her mouth with his hand. Annabel’s eyes were wide and brimming with tears as she stared into the eye slits of the man’s mask. “Annabel, Annabel! It’s me!” The man said, dropping the knife that was in his free hand and yanking off the mask. Annabel froze, her eyes growing so wide that it looked as though they would pop out. She stared into the depths of the somewhat familiar blue eyes of her childhood acquaintance. “E-Edmund?” she asked incredulously, her voice muffled by his hand. Though it had been years since she last saw him, she could still recognize him from the boy that he once was. Nodding slowly, Edmund lowered his hand cautiously, as though not to frighten her away.“B-but what are you doing here? W-why were you chasing me?! And
why do you have a knife?!” she shrieked as she stared incredulously at him, tears of relief streaking down her face. Although she sounded livid, the discovery calmed her greatly; though they had been separated for many years on end, she was sure Edmund would not hurt her. He sighed heavily and dropped his head, “I am following you because I am protecting you. It is a long story, but essentially, I am assigned to be your bodyguard until the prisoner, Amos Jones, has been captured.” Annabel gaped at him in shock. “B-but, I-I don’t understand!” She cried. Edmund smiled as he lifted a hand and tenderly placed it on her cheek, “Do not worry, my dear. I will—” His words were left unfinished, because at that moment, a man appeared behind him, with a long, silver dagger plunged into Edmund’s back. A gasp was dragged from his throat as the blade was pulled from muscle, blood sputtering out of his mouth and onto Annabel’s dress. She screeched in horror as she watched Edmund collapse in front of her, body crumpled on the ground. Fresh tears flowed down her face as she stared at her fiancé’s corpse, knees buckling. As she started to slide down the wall, strong hand clasped around her throat and brought her back onto to her feet, pressing her against the wall. Choking, she writhed against her attacker, trying to clear her windpipe as she lifted her eyes. She stopped struggling as she tried hard to gasp. Henry Foxwoods, or rather, Amos Jones grinned nefariously, his once handsome face now twisted in malice and malevolence. “Five years,” He said in a soft voice, “Five years I have been waiting for this moment. Your father tore my family away from me and condemned me to a life of unjust imprisonment. But now, I will have my revenge. Now, he will know how it feels to have his daughter ripped away from him, to hold her lifeless body in her hands.” His eyes were crazed as he stared into Annabel’s stunned ones. He lifted his bloodied dagger, and in its reflection, she could see herself, cowardly and powerless. Suddenly, it felt as though her soul had been ripped from her body, and it stood by as witness to the scene, watching herself cry pitifully as the dagger was lifted. Time dragged on before it went still and the world was consumed with black. By: Anonymous 4
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All this happened before the advancement of technology; where escape would only be a mouse click away. No, there was no escape. I grew faster than the other boys, faster and larger. And with these changes came By: Nabeel Bhatti and Saad Farooqui more facial hair; I had no idea what to do with it, but clearly the others knew. It would soon define me Not again. My eyes said it all. But when you’re that young, parents tend not to look into your eyes. What would I know again. Something new to take hold of me, a new name, a new identity: the beast. “Hey everybody, after all, what would they seem in them? What horrors of here’s comes the beast!” I would hear as I walked into the world could my eyes have possibly seen to warrant the classroom. But I saw what they saw. The massive attention? They thought I was still afraid of things that go claws, the killer teeth, the horns, I was a beast wasn’t bump in the night. But if they just took the time to look in my eyes, to see the darkness that was creeping in, filling me I? And who could ever like a beast? wholly from inside and out, they wouldn’t keep sending me Should I cry? Would the tears wash away the pain and there. School. A breeding ground for chaos; the introducanguish? Would they clear away the mask of a beast tion of a social hierarchy where the beautiful rule and the to reveal a handsome prince beneath? unattractive, the different, the lesser beings are at their mercy. It was at this time, at my lowest point, where fears began to stagnate, where my emotions began to diYou want to know what true fear is? True fear has to nothminish, where I had begun my descent into becoming ing to do with fictional monsters, or long legged creatures, a real beast, I discovered my saving grace. I picked up or fire, or any other random event for which there is a tiny a comic book: Batman. Immediately, there was a consliver of chance to experience. No, true fear is to look into a nection. A man that takes fear, manipulates it, adopts mirror and hate what you see. To be a constant reminder of it, and uses it to fight evil. So they’re not good guys, your own deficiencies, your own inabilities. To look at yourmy innocent mind pondered flipping through page self and see the very things the other kids mocked you after page; drawing inspiration and clearing doubt. about. My parents would often say, “Oh, they’re just teasRealizing that those social elites were not right. I wasing you, son. It’s all in good fun.” I couldn’t call it teasing; n’t something to be ridiculed, something to be tossed teasing seemed too nice, too personal, too friendly. But around for fun, a punching bag to relieve personal inwhen every word silently tears you apart from the inside, is securities on. I wasn’t a coward’s plaything. I was the it really “good fun”? beast. And that was a good thing.
The Beast
I went to school to be reminded of the kind of abomination I was. What had I done wrong? No, the question is what hadn’t I done wrong? My eyesight was weak, I needed glasses. Mistake. I was fat. Mistake. I didn’t like playing sports, so I played with action figures instead. Mistake. I brought a home-packed lunch to school. Mistake. Everything I did, everything I was, and everything I wasn’t was picked apart by the others.
Then something marvelous happened. The boy, the head honcho, the bane of my existence, yelled at me as I walked in, “hey, here comes the beast!” But this time was different. For the first time ever in my life, I walked up to him... and roared.
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I dare you to read this: A glimpse into the inner ramblings of a college freshman (a.k.a. a rare appointment with cynicism) By: Ayah Chehade Here you are. Sitting in a UIC classroom: the walls gray and crumbling with a combination of age and dirt; the windows making the sunlight outside appear dim and lifeless; the students around you inanimate, quiet, and unsociable. You’re expected to become something great. Here, in this little dank classroom you realize this again (usually the realizations come and go sporadically, leaving little sprinkles of panic to decorate your wake). Your parents are waiting for the day to see their child graduate, blossoming into something unique and exceptional. Your professors couldn’t care less- so long as you turn that research paper in, complete with opinions that align perfectly with theirs. Your siblings are too busy with their own lives to even think about yours. Your grades basically mock your intellect. And you are an utterly confused and absolutely terrified mess. As finals fast approach you’ve resorted to: a.
wallowing in self pity for twice as much time you actually spend studying and
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pulling the “I’m just not cut out for school. I’m an independent learner so I may as well drop out now and spend the rest of my life as a vagabondturned-hippie-turned-inspirational-journalist,” card.
And then there is your faith. Oh, your faith. Yes, it’s true that you believe it is the center of your life- no, no. Scratch that- it is your life but you question, is it really? In action, are you really making it the root of all things? And that’s where the guilt comes seeping in. You can’t exactly pin-point what you did wrong but you know you’ve done wrong. After all, there has to be a reason you prayed two successive salawat late last Thursday night.
If you’re a science-related major like the greater half of UIC (no offense), you’re probably questioning your integrity. Are you doing this for wealth and status? Or do you genuinely look forward to prescribing approximately 20 patients a day with various drugs to treat their ailments? On the other hand, if you’re a humanities-related major, you’re probably wondering how the heck one is supposed to get a job anyway. You have the reverse problem. You love the subjects you study so much—perhaps a bit too much—but the world seems to scream that it has no use for them. Law? Hah. You’re basically representing corruption. Journalism? Good luck finding an audience who cares. And amidst all of this there is that little incessant voice in your head of your former 9 year old self. Memories of hand-written speeches, drawn out books, lists of what you’ll be when you grow up, your elementary teacher’s promise that you are a “gifted” one. Amidst all this, that voice asks if you’ve done well. If you’ve grown to be who you thought you would. And suddenly you find yourself falling into an endless pit of things that won’t ever come back: your family’s late night runs to blockbuster, developing the film on your camera after a summer vacation, time spent actually playing with your siblings (because dial-up internet’s got nothin’ on a game of cards), your naive childhood spirit that once believed everything was possible, …and the time you wished you spent studying last night. Now, breathe. Seriously, do it: Just close your eyes (with AlBayyan still at hand of course) and draw in some (semi)fresh air. Now let the carbon dioxide escape you. (So poetic, I know.) I understand that rant was overwhelming but I thought it would be refreshing to get stressed in the ramblings of someone else’s thoughts. Why? To prove that although others’ thoughts seem far away, they most probably resonate so closely to your own. (Continued on page 7)
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(Continued from page 6)
This is a reminder that it’s okay to be scared about the future. That even though life seems so tangible, so serious, and so permanent: it isn’t. As we journey our way into “finding ourselves” in this world, we mustn’t forget what this world actually is in relativity to the next. A drop in the ocean. A grain of sand in the desert. Basically, nothing. Now, this isn’t to say we shouldn’t seek knowledge and continuously aim to positively impact ourselves and those around us (in fact, Islam makes knowledge and betterment of ourselves incumbent), it just goes to prove that when your efforts fail, it isn’t the end of the world. Step back and really let this concept sink in. Smile and keep in mind that no matter how small you may feel, you are actually smaller (astronomically speaking). But in the eyes of Allah SWT and in context of the great deeds you’ve acquired, sacrifices you’ve made, and burdens you’ve carried patiently, you, my friend, are awesome. End rant.
The following is based on a hadith from Sahih Bukhari Volume 4, Book 56, Number 676. There was a man who had heartlessly murdered ninety-nine people. Then, he felt remorse. He went to a learned man and told him about his past. He explained that he wished to repent, reform, and become a better person. "I wonder if Allah will pardon me?" he asked. For all his learning, the scholar was a man who had not been able to digest what he had learned. "You will not be pardoned.” he said. "Then I may as well kill you, too," said the other. And kill him he did. He then found another worthy individual and told him that he had killed a hundred people. "I wonder," he said, "whether Allah will pardon me if I repent?" Being a truly wise man, he replied, "Of course you will be pardoned; repent at once. I have just one piece of advice for you: avoid the company of wicked people and mix with good people, for bad company leads one into sin." The man expressed repentance and regret, weeping as he sincerely implored his Lord to pardon him. Then, turning his back on bad company, he set off to find a neighborhood where righteous people lived. On the way, his appointed hour arrived, and he died. The angels of punishment and of mercy both came to take away his soul. The angels of punishment said that as a sinful person he rightfully belonged to them, but the angels of mercy also claimed him, saying, "He repented and had resolved to become a good man. He was on his way to a place where righteous people live, but his appointed hour had come." A great debate ensued, and Gabriel was sent as an arbitrator to settle this affair. After hearing both sides he gave this verdict: "Measure the ground. If the spot where he died is closer to the good people, then he belongs to the angels of mercy, but if it is nearer to the wicked people, he will be given to the angels of punishment." They measured the ground. Because the man had just set out, he was still closer to the wicked. But because he was sincere in his repentance, the Lord moved the spot where he lay and brought it to just outside the city of the good people. That penitent servant was handed over to the angels of mercy. By: Sumaya Aman
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DON’T BE AFRAID TO READ THIS ARTICLE!
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ome of you reading this must be college students around the age of 21, who, at last in your short lives, view yourself as invincible, with no fears whatsoever. I sincerely hope this is not the case. Besides common phobias, like the fear of spiders, heights, or public speaking, there are a plethora of fears that infect our generation, whether they want to admit it or not. Most of them can be expressed as questions that we ask ourselves every day. Will I pass all my exams? Will I eventually earn my degree, or will I fail, ultimately letting all of those who have believed me down? Will I be accepted among my peers, or will I be rejected because I refuse to adhere to peer pressure? Will I find a sustainable profession that will allow me to support a family and my parents in their old age, or will I be left to ponder what could have been? Will I be able to make it financially, or will I be left as a statistic of those who have crumbled under the increasingly competitive economic structure of our society? All of these anxieties can be described as problems of this Dunya, or this temporal world. As Muslims part of the MSA, we know that we can’t immerse ourselves too much with the daily problems of this world, because we know of the promise and greatness that awaits us after this life, if we adhere to what Allah (SWT) decrees, set forth in the Holy Quran. We should not fear all the issues we face in
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our everyday lives, because in the end, they mean little in comparison to what we will face in the afterlife. That doesn’t mean you should not try hard in school, try to get a good job, and make your parents’ lives easier. But, keeping the statements of Allah (SWT) in mind, we should not panic at difficulties we encounter. It is stated in the Holy Quran to “know that the life of this world (Dunya) is only play and amusement, pomp and mutual boasting among you and rivalry in respect of wealth and children… the life of this world is only a deceiving enjoyment (AlHadid 57:20). As a strong Muslim Student Association, we have an amazing tool at our disposal. We, as fellow Muslims, need to forge stronger bonds with each other, providing comfort so that others will not be subjected to the anxieties that plague so many of us. If we all provide support to those who hold some fear involving the difficulties in life, we will all be better all in the eyes of Allah (SWT). A person once asked the Messenger of Allah (S), "O Messenger of Allah! Give me some advice." The Prophet (S) replied, "I advise you to fear Allah because it is the head of everything." As the Ummah of the Prophet (S), we need only to fear Allah, because all other fears, no matter how big they may seem right now, are minuscule in the grander scheme of the Akhirah (afterlife). By: Anonymous
Fear is the ultimate fear– the fear of God.” -Zamia Siddiqui “Fear is when you only have five minutes left for prayer.” -Mariya Amiwala “Fear is the Unknown.” -Zehra Naqvi “Fear is that feeling you get right before you eat whole milk ice cream knowing that you’re lactose intolerant body will reject it within 15 minutes making you run for your life to the local bathroom hoping you can explode in peace.” -America Carrillo “Fear is being scared poopless.” -Maheen Ahmed
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Dear Mr. Reese, Is it acceptable to approach a guy you like [in terms of marriage] or is that a huge turn off and makes the girl look desperate? Help! It is acceptable. But it is very important not to get your hopes way too high beforehand. Life isn't a movie. Re-evaluate if you really like this person, and then just tell them in a mature way. Hope for the best, expect the worst. Sincerely, Mr. Reese Dear Mr. Reese, What is life? What is life? Life is a series of unexpected events. Take it in, enjoy it and move on. Don’t dwell on the little things. Sincerely, Mr. Reese
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Dear Ms. Therese, Sadly I've been at UIC for 2 years but due to my work schedule and classes haven't been able to enjoy the MSA fully and have missed a lot of events, and I feel like an outsider. What should I do? Visit the lounge! You don’t have to be at the events to be a member. If you just pop in the lounge every so often where all the Muslims hang out, you can say your salaams and jump into interesting conversations if you have the time. We don’t always bite! Just introduce yourself and you’ll get to be friends with everyone. Sincerely, Ms. Therese Dear Ms. Therese, I want to know what approach to take when speaking to a Non Muslim who is interested in Islam to make sure they are getting the right information. Well to start off, you should ask what misunderstandings of Islam they have then clear those up for them. Then just talk to them. Just have a conversation and create a relationship. If they have any really deep questions that you are not sure how to answer, tell them that you will ask a scholar and get back to them. It’s a good learning experience for you as well because you get to learn and teach at the same time. It’s also a good idea to have them talk to other converts because born Muslims may have a different mentality than converts. Sincerely, Ms. Therese
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Dangers in the Dark In hopes for a life worth living In pursuit of a story worth telling The story of the darkness and I It called to me as an infant, but praise is to God my heart was then pure The true challenge came as a youth, now the darkness would lure But I feared not the darkness No longer having the purity of a child, it lured and lured I was No longer innocent, unaccountable, the darkness seduced and seduced I was By the test of God, its invitations lingered I became a wayfarer, lost, my thoughts drifted and hindered But when one is invited so kindly, it is hard to deny The darkness welcomes me, comforts me, and I felt urged to comply And so I feared not the darkness So kind, I know he accommodates me, growing vast to make space for me, as I grow A perfect situation, the darkness learns as I learn, taking in all that I know This darkness accommodates, and it accommodates well Catering to my lust for power, with me it will bargain, barter, and sell And to these transactions I accepted and agreed But now this darkness is growing inside me: a dark filthy clotted seed This cavity is nowhere but right here in my breast, and there I must let it stay Am I free man or a prisoner? My heart decaying day by day Still I fear not the darkness for it enables me I fear not this hidden monster, as he grants me greatness Or maybe I fear it a little, those times when I am alone Those times of solitude for which my virtues I must hone This crevice in my chest advances on to the rest of me, it is my entirety it wants Utmost control, whispering to me tormenting thoughts My psyche now mixed with doubts and sorrow It was my soul I let him borrow And when you lend, there is the usual wear and tear My soul will come back to me shredded, tainted, a deal not so fair Still I do not fear my inner darkness for it enables me I fear not my hidden monster for he grants me greatness Now I and the darkness are one A bartered soul, a deal set and done I am now the darkness and the darkness is me I fear this not, because we two have made a binding peace On my soul is a red-stained truce, together we signed a devilish lease Still I do not fear myself, because that fear would disable me I fear not that I am a monster, for that monster grants me greatness This darkness brings power, so very near Now people respect me, and in hearts I strike fear Because no one remembers the powerless the weak And that is why it is darkness we must seek W.W. stands for weak and weary, barely hanging on to dear life Turned Heisenberg, notoriously victorious, cunning through every strife A little bit of darkness, a little‌ is the secret recipe. And it can go a long way. As goes for Lucifer the cursed, once God’s beloved One Now better known as Satan, damned and powerful, with each rising of the sun 10
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UIC MSA So I say… “I am not in danger… I am the danger. A guy opens his door and gets shot and you think that of me? No. I am the one who knocks.” So I fear not this darkness, because now I am the darkness, the danger A friend of the shadows and to divine light a stranger
Protect Me Allah SWT has guided me through many signs How should I interpret them, that is beyond the capacity of my mind My heart aches at the confusion My feelings want to escape into a revolution I fear that… Shaitan will withhold my heart in his hand and lead me to rebel Rebel against my love for Thee, punishing me with the gateway to hell This is not what I want, my heart aches even at the very thought All to get what I desire, in my grave I will rot Please my Lord protect me from the strength of my sinful desires And please my Protecting Friend leave me not to the one you have made from fire
Longing I thirst for a day when people can do things without their motives being questioned. I'm hungry for a time when morals are as important as they once were. I dream of a place where neighbors are like family, where different classes are on the same floor, where you look at actions and not appearances. I long for kindness. I wish to be amongst those whose hearts are made of pure gold. Because if a piece of the gold happens to find its way to me, I'd guard it with my life. I want to do so much good that people are bored by it. I want to help so many people with even more expecting it. I want to use every fiber of my being, everything that I've been given, to do something for someone else. I want to cry every time I see a dead child. I want to reach into my pockets every time I see a homeless person. I want to see every dog, every cat rescued. And I don't want to write about it anymore. What's stopping me? What's stopping you? ~ Anonymous
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“Do not be afraid to fear. To fear something, you gain a connection to it, it becomes more than just a thing, it becomes a symbol. A symbol that can seal your greatness, or release it.� -Nabeel Bhatti
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