To call my own.
I lay down in mumma's arms today. That was the closest to peace it could get for a few minutes.
On my ride home today I was thinking, ''Does anyone think about their Kafan? About how they would like for themselves to be washed, and wrapped up? Who would wash them? How would the person washing, be feeling?'' I think, in an unattached yet very realistic note, I would like to be layed down spritzed with my favorite perfume around my neck, shoulders and ears. I think the only person I could imagine washing me, would be my mother.
At this moment, I really dont know what to feel about these thoughts. I mean, I cant even imagine to put my mother through that, but life happens. Anything in life could happen. It has perhaps already happened to so many out there. Im not thinking about killing myself. Im only preparing myself for death, for whenever it may arrive. To deny that, would be to become an unbeliever. To remind myself of it, helps me push myself to think about all that I need to do, to fix myself before this time arrives.
Sometimes the sins we have committed seem like they will never be forgiven. The reminder of them, despite repetitive deep and undying remorse, is like a shard of glass that pierces through everything that would/could be in wretched pain thus, in my body.
Pray for that forgiveness I do regardless.
YOU, my Allah were supposed to stop me.
YOU, my Allah knew me better.
YOU, my Allah let the devil take over.
YOU, my Allah can only Save me.
YOU, my Allah I wish to please.
YOU, my Allah I ask for peace.
YOU, my Allah are my only Respite, my All, my Everything.
For YOU I will let go of things that YOU would Want me to, but I will require help immense inorder to do so, and that can only come from YOU!