Streams from Sins

Streams from Sins 

All my cries got muffled
by the thundering around the cage.
And I look down into the Stream at my feet,
to only see the reflection of an animal.

With every cold bullet of rain hitting my skull,
another ricochet of self-hatred stung through the blood in my brain.
Mocking me, taunting me, scorching me
to the ground,
along with the iron weights hanging around my neck,
their cold grip burning into me.
Always the most severe task for me-
resisting became impossible,
and the ground became a mirage of relief
as I stared into the Stream and everything spun around
and the roars of beating rain
began to heighten in intensity and unify with a scream in my mind…

And then I see myself back.
Standing there tall and proud
with “Muslim” written across my tunic’s chest-
the outline of the word gleaming,
always the world in my hands, the expertise in my mind, the praise in my presence–
and nothing in my heart.
And knowing this insufficiency in my heart could cause me to die,
I would creep out every night
when the fog would settle in and the chills would begin,
dressed in a cloak thinking it could keep me a little warm,
and a scarf around my neck, with one end always dropping down,
and covering the chest of my tunic.
I would walk the entire way erasing the footprints I kept leaving,
my hands getting grimier,
and wincing at every sound and shadow, “No one must know…”
Then, I would arrive at my destination,
the place where I would indulge in killing myself every night,
but somehow be alive every morning,
at which point I would go back to my residence,
back to everything,
and everyone handing daggers with which to do my night’s work again.
I only did it for the ephemeral warmth it brought me
because I needed another Stream, even a polluted one, since a Stream of Tears failed to exist.

So here I am. Imprisoned.
I imprisoned myself.
I threw away the key. I put on the iron weights. I left myself under the rain.
I have no way out, so I let myself get pulled down to the ground-
I let this be my final killing…
The weights fall, taking my neck with them,
my surroundings disappear as my view becomes a muddy black earth,
my face smashes into the freezing slime as I yell in pain foreign words, “YA ALLAH!”
… It happened out of my innate nature as a human, I called out.
And He came to me, faster than I, as a human again, can understand.
But I asked Him why He came to me, the animal still staring back in the Stream.
He never answered.
He just brought out the key, unlocked the cage, took off the iron weights…
and made it start raining harder, warmer.
“He is mocking, taunting, scorching me again, setting me free with continuous pain.”
And then I looked down at my hands, and watched the black earth being washed off.
I stepped forward to look into the Stream
and the grime on my face cleansed and fell into the Stream- and dissolved.
I looked up to the sky, the rain cleared it too.
I could walk out, run out, go back to my freedom,
but I knew now my old ways as shackles around my wrists and ankles and neck.
“This servitude to sins must end.”
And then the rain intensified and unified again, but with something else…
And I looked down, however much I could look,
at the new Stream forming on the ground as a result of a vertical river,
originating at my face…

And I dress myself back into the tunic, and the chest gleams in entirety.
My hands at my sides bare and rough,
my mind only containing one Aspiration,
my surroundings a Hell,
and my heart pounding with life again,
as I raise my right foot to step out and leave my cage behind,
and I say, “BismillahiRahmanalGhafur…“