You are not an apostle
Verse by verse you receive
You are not a prophet
But, you always find it
man,
object,
tone
You’re not like mushaf,
yourself,
physical disability,
broken because you have a God,
because your pleasure belongs to God,
for yourself only that long, nothing more or less
But, you’re stupid
Why not learn to be sensible?
Are you strong?
Can you?
Your scalp is harder than the inside of your head itself
The foothold you achieved, is nothing more than idle talk with your friends
Like a birthday celebration, with tunes and melodies that they think are right
Disabled already,
just step on it,
all blind!
As long as your God blesses you,
no problem
Because dying young is everyone’s dream
No one can deny it
In fact, all of God’s land is an ashtray
Not a grave!
Shroud, final layer
Wooden crates, forever friends
Don’t forget the treasures you carry inside
Then, it seems that cremation ashes are more fragrant
Because, all of God’s land is a way home for the ashes themselves