إِلَّا كَمَا يَقُومُ ٱلَّذِي يَتَخَبَّطُهُ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنُ مِنَ ٱلۡمَسِّۚ

 

إِلَّا كَمَا يَقُومُ ٱلَّذِي يَتَخَبَّطُهُ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنُ مِنَ ٱلۡمَسِّۚ

This tale begins at its tail; 

upon a friendship never thought so frail

upon a reader it's affairs I'll entail

Read ye well; and thorough - it's not hollow- even if by brail...

A friendship to fold; t'was old, O' the irony for it be dusted and done after a rekindling...

Thought our days were innumerated; but they be dwindling...

Could it have but survived the heat of the bellows; for tis said that steel be malleable upon every iron-fisted mallet to have striken its fiery veins straight out the fire...

Moreover I say; I begrudge thee not for thy swindling...

Nay! but this friendship was threaded in strands stronger than steel; Aye! major ampullate silk they call it, true and akin to its fashion of irony - held it nuthin' but a spiderweb's orb...

Enough with the riddles: what bothers ye old friend? 

Bother? O' brother? I froth at the mouth at a life unfulfilled; could I but make mention of it to you, ever so true...

No bother; achieved have I every might - nothing to set aright...

There upon, a forenoon later - the balloon pops and left its stead a shrivelled show of pity arisen by the escaped hot air; I should not have thy plea aired...

O brother; how you could have faired; were you to be fair-minded when reminded; to yourself have granted this kindness; never to have roamed in blindness...

Help me, ye! I seek meaning! Or so I profess for thy putrid pity; but nay - I seek meaning! So off to madrissa I go; say get! And guide me true and fair...

Don't you dare yasir! He's old, he's got a family to feed; elderly parents and their rents...

Aye; spoken true but he be lost; unfulfiled and unaccomplished - now famished and brandished with bronze to mark his shame, yet he stays untame... 

So where lies, in any of this, my blame? 

Fate's cards were dealt; allow me - this bronze melt... 

My sorrow heart-felt; and now dear audience my guilt over his skinned pelt... 

Don't you dare yasir; incriminate yourself before Allah ye? Advise him of work and woe; into the fire - him ye throw... it was never slow...

No madrissa for me; I can never be free - I be riddled with debt; my end met - this interest breaks my back; it's trail far back - every row and rack filled tenfold over but the bank belies still; I freeze still, heart frozen...

So now I must escape; and unshackle my burdens...

So I flee; after having fleeced; I flee carefree into the mountains; their northern skylines my hermited home... 

I shall wander, never wonder

till the sky cleft asunder

There upon I shall know my blunder 

As for you; dear yasir, don't ye dare ever follow an opine; show some spine and spin yer own cobwebs lest another spider lay fallen and homeless