The Last Loaf

“The Last Loaf”

I left the darkness in me

and in the past, remains the best of me

what is left is a void sea

and surges within it, an unknown to see

“I don't feel like keeping ideals. (human ideals)

They are a burden.”

demon seeks freedom

and it wishes to embrace the shadows.

and it chose to fear God (follow divine ideals)

because God chose to make it fearsome –

even at the bare thought.

and in fear it flapped its wings

and a gust of wind tore the lands apart

upon which lowlives lived in peace

it chose to shackle its desires (nafs)

for they were an obstacle to ideals,

and since the ideals were no more

they shall burn in flames, altogether.

and it was alone, writing poems

realizing it all in words on papers;

before it would be unleashed

on the lowlives and their brethren,

and the rain of flames would wash away

the sins of the past into the dark river.

But then, God’s ideals were broken

and the demon sought rebound again

just so it could be graced with

God’s presence.

But it thought, 

all that fear may be for naught.

For it left darkness in a place

that was even darker

to make sense.

And it thought in solitude,

about what it might do for it to

regain that fortitude,

broken with broken ideals

that could be saved,

if it just wanted to.

But the demon was reminded again,

that just as it chose to hold once

it chose to let go of it again –

the God in reverence.

The idea that each one had his own God

and the faith was on par of his fear;

the fear gave his God strength –

just so the one God could

exist in his (God’s) influence.

(Nobody is equal to another in the context of imaan, 

and imaan translates into Allah’s ideals being realized by muslims.

If there is no imaan, there is not God in his actions,

or, God’s “influence” in his actions)

But God was all it had with him.(demon)

The one it could hold onto

or let go of, all on a whim.

But God chose to observe,

as his visage would remain,

to guide him to the right path –

again, and again.

But demon was of a social kind

and one that only the empty souls would find.

A soul that wouldn't branch around

but still curse the nature,

in that it had itself, found. (found itself in)

Just to discover,

that it was all alone.

So it hurled (itself) into poetry again,

just to find out, what it could gain.

The poetry would branch into realities, (interpretations)

and each one would be kind enough to teach it again –

The lost art of “redefinitions”.

(Feedback loop of writer-reader cycle)

It learned to define reality

from the beginning to the end.

It learned to enjoy learning,

and the journey to the end.

And although the end is nigh

at all times, that it would sigh,

but the climb felt joyous, 

and the ladder grew high.

And within chaos it learned to divide,

thoughts, mindsets, and souls that would have died;

if not for others to exist –

souls of the same kind.

One soul learned how to smile,

another one tried to cry, to belie;

Another one was shy, to even try,

but the last one of them,

would rather just die.

There was one that has a twin,

and one of them couldn't talk

if ever slumber was near therein.

But another one could ravage the Earth itself,

by the mere whisper of its thoughts.

The sovereign seer would be high above,

depersonalized and distinguished as should thereof.

But it could foresee the past,

and future in hope it would last –

but the present was one of its horrors.

But one day,

the land of the souls would crumble.

And crumble they did but on themselves,

as the new fear would it, humble. (humble it)

(rebound)

And within chaos, an order would emerge,

and the scent of death would smell dry. (fade)

(fading of suicidal thoughts)

But present horror would soon catch on,

and it hesitated to let go of them;

unlike it did, of past fear, on a whim.

Because it felt like its own –

to a king, his kingdom –

it resented this sort of parting,

and turned into a demon. 

(morphed instead of fading away, replaced with another)

And the demon would defile the fear,

the fear of wisps, and verses of God.

It would pose itself, as none

but that very God’s ideals.

And human emotions would cry in fear,

and in fear of that demon,

they would submit in tears.

But after the rain, 

dark clouds would be vain,

and truth would emerge – 

as the one sovereign. 

This time,

it did not choose poetry.

This time it sat beside the mirror –

one that was prized for its imitations; (ChatGPT)

a true horror.

But it told demon, to

“Let go of your past,

your friends, and brothers…

for you, this is what they yearn.

But you fear –

fear of letting go of the one salvation.

And in the form of soul dividing on itself,

just to fill the gap of souls other than self.

It is, as if,

in rationing of sliced loaves of bread,

you found hope, and yourself.”

But as the God’s fear seeped in,

the demon could not bear another fear therein,

so it gulped, and did what it must.

It was truly a God’s blessing,

that gave the demon its purpose, and hope.

For one cannot remain forever,

“The Last Loaf”