God

By Shaikh Aafreen

I am angry at my father, then I'm angry at my God, then I thrash myself with my anger. It's always this, again and over. God, you have truly made us into weakness. On this weak soul we are trying to fit excellence, we are trying consistent persistency; with our tired muscles and clenched jaws that seem to have been shut by you. You know God, for our lives to take a turn from ignorance to enlightenment we must open it up, rip the seal, and say 'God, please allow me, allow me this!".

You have made our souls forever hungry, we keep running after you and you keep slipping, but I know you love it, all of it. Our hands forever empty besides the passion to hold you and the disposition to demand more-always more.

You are my lover who loved me before I was born and I'm the hunter seeking you out for my own benefit. My psyche is threaded into self-fulfillment. How do I seperate the intricately sown web or the mush of jumbled morals humanity is made of? I don't know how to keep them from melting into each other so for once, I want a single moment or a millisecond or a short instance be provided to me to properly become a believer. To properly be grateful of you.

For once I be want to be able to remove the line of fate and thank you for all that you gave me-erase the curse from my flesh; the guide-so that you guide-i think it would make my life-i make up my life-it gets ruined-i am-i am becoming-i don't wish to-you are-you were-and you will remain.

By Shaikh Aafreen