I have spent my every waking hour in prayer, for everything I was and that which I am and shall be, has been beyond my reach. Hidden and locked away somewhere, the key carried by the Bedouins of the Badawi tribe. Lost in the arid deserts, never to be seen by the eyes of Man.
For thirty days, I prayed and believed, lost hope and faith. For thirty days, I stumbled in the blackness of solitude with the soft tendrils of melancholy brushing my ankles. There I found the most unlikely ray of turbulent light streaming down from the sky. Closer and full of clammy hesitance, I looked into the light and what I saw spurred me to lay these words down for you to see.
In the light, the prophet mannequin whispered his lies to me as I looked at his accusing finger pointing straight into my soul. I couldn't help but stand still while he clawed into me with viciousness only Hate himself could understand.
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