Decisions

The voice plucked away at her conscience, reminding her of the repercussions of the path she was settling to take –

She whispered hush to it again, and now bequeathed familiars to decorate her surroundings.

As she perfumed herself, the whispers began again, pleading with her not to go ahead.

She momentarily paid the whispers some heed, and learnt that in spite of the wretchedness that she had allowed herself to delve into, redemption would not be granted through this route.

The guilt - as overwhelming as it is,

Would not be poured out through a union, which she had now began tip toeing towards.

She hushed the voice, and continued aiding decorations to the marquee in which the bondship would be celebrated.

Several weeks earlier,

The whispers had manifested itself in a most beautiful dream showing the alleyway she needed to take in order to journey to the land of the most sacred mountains, and of course the Greatest symbol of His Existence!

What she couldn’t make sense of was the relevance of this journey, as she had only just returned from it. Yet this didn’t appear to be familiar to her, as there was no sign of her chosen companion in her dream.

She knew, deep down, that this was the point… but instead she hushed the dream, and resided to tackle this voice constantly

as the days filtered by –

It was a Thursday night,

They were inside conversing away, and as she fiddled with her left finger,

She began to wonder about the whispers,

And why they had stopped,

Then the whispers began again.

As she sat accompanied with so many familiar faces,

She decided to slip away with solitude and recited what provided silent healing.

As she now sat with the moon above her,

Now accompanied by the quietude of the night,

She began to hesitate,

Her left finger feeling heavy,

Distasteful,

And then reason was

Silenced by guilt,

She couldn’t go back

How could she?

No,

She couldn’t,

She wouldn’t.

It was Sunday,

Hope stood still at her doorstep,

As she hesitated to catch her breath,

Leave me alone,

She whispered to herself as she sat painting her face,
an attempt to be more than just ‘nice looking’.

Her companions entered,

And brought news of deceit and dishonor,

Only moments earlier,

The trepidations of lingering hope had released a quixotic atmosphere around her,

And everything around her tasted sweet and melodious,

And so she decided this bitterness was to be expected,

Right?

After all she couldn't believe the certainty of belief in childhood dreams coming true this presented, and there was no way she would tell hope to exit.

She skipped downstairs,

Hand held tightly to hope,

Showing open support of it,

She was then greeted with a manifestation of what the voice had warned her about. 
She couldn’t make sense of it,

Though she knew what this meant,

Her false eyelashes could not tackle the salty waters’ release,

And one by one,

These fell from their assigned place.

Deceit clogged her surroundings,

As the reality of a disgusting individual was realised,

She blamed herself,

Residing to accept her own nature as such…

Beginning her journey of drowning in guilt.

She wanted to go back,

Wanting to live in ignorance,

But knowing fully well she couldn’t.

And so…

She overslept,

Under ate,

Overly cried,

Exchanged angry words,

Cursed herself,

And those around her,

Ending her friendship with hope.

She needed rescuing,

The overwhelming guilt whispered the wretchedness of her character,

Telling her that she deserved this,

And despite the attempts from loved ones,

It was not enough,

It would never be enough,

She questioned the concept of love in itself,

Believing it to be a synonym for deceit,

And so decided never ever to be fooled by it again.

The phone rang,

It was Divine intervention,

And she was called to her Savior.

Her earlier dream, became a reality.

For the first time she didn’t want to go back,

She stood still in the grandness of the symbol of the Greatest Reality,

Deciding to apologise to hope,

And pleaded redemption for befriending despair –

Whether this will be granted,

Is yet to be Foretold,

But she no longer cared to be a victim to her perceived misfortune,

After all,
She was by all means it's antonym,

As her surroundings welcomed her,

By name,
Purifying her,

Healing her.

Allahuakbar. SubhanAllah. Alhumdullilah.