Depth of Free will … to give up or walk towards fate?

People screaming at my direction … “Stop”!
“You will drop ..You will fall” then eyes stare
… No … Let it flow … Despair for inspiration..
Thoughts cross over but will I ? Fears shaking

Trembling with huge feet on thin sharp doom
It’s cutting through but we will make it through
walk towards death guided to an unknown mob
Hell beneath burning filthy baby steps “give up”!

Balance doesn’t exist, blindfolded & Mad Noises
Block them out to let in whispers of wealthy lips
Sensing hair which stand to salute to begin to end
Desires climbing out of its throat to choke me dead



She was looking in the mirror then felt something creeping in her mouth, so she opened it wide to see a gigantic cockroach tickling it by his hairy legs. She tried to spit it out but it was stuck like glue flipping along with her tongue and drowning in her saliva, so she accidentally chewed it partly and one of his wings got stuck between her teeth. Its dirty juicy blood and fluids flowed on her coloured tongue then it came out crawling and it fell in weakness. She choked after swallowing the fluids then she started spitting and trying to clean her throat but nothing came out.

Her teeth started to fall off her gums and she started to spit them out one by one, then she touched the rest of them to find out that they are easy to detach. Her teeth are staring back at her from the sink in a puddle of blood. She opened her mouth again to see a gummy grandmother and a younger version of herself screaming from her throat.

Behind her stands an old man who is pale, skinny and bold with sweaty armpits. He hugs her from behind rubbing and smooching her back with his wrinkled lips and then he pulls up her shirt touching her bellybutton and going up. She started to scream for someone to save her, then two big hairy hands with long fingers and sharp black nails came from the thin air above her head to get her. She got pulled up and disappeared from this world to who knows where.

When the time is right …

They dragged him into the wet humid dungeon … It was cold, blue and darkness took over.
*Plop … Plop*
The Brick walls were growing heavy chains from their chests. He could barely breathe for the thick air barely moved and the smell of rotten corpses took over. He was surrounded by darkness to face a fading red light coming from behind that lonely black chair.
The door creaked then slammed then the sound of the movement of something slippery made the hair in his ears stand.
There he stood tall before the prisoner … A ten feet tall creature with the face of a handsome man.
In his human hands he held a glass and looked with eyes that were the source of this loathsome darkness.
*Throb Throb Throb* “Who are you …”
“Who am I?” He raised his proud head and looked at him with pity from under his nose.
“He is The Lord, our master, the king of hell and he came to guide us all!”
That answer came with a hammer dropped on Luke’s head with a spit from that ugly slave.
Blood ran but it was not as thick and nasty as that saliva was.
“What are these creatures? Why am I here?” Thought Luke.
“You’re here because I want you to be here.” Said The Lord with indifference.
Then, he slithered with his long wide lower half on the floor and his spiky legs crawled along slowly. The slime looked earthy, poisonous and diseased. He looked at that chair giving Luke his back which had a spine that showed itself … It was hard, divided and brown like crispy shells.
“Do you feel it Luke? The chill … The urge and need to itch? You think I’m repulsive don’t you? I exist Luke … I’m real … I’m here … Imagine me … I live in the corners of your head.”
“What is it you want?”
“I want my sucking mouths to kiss you and suck your fluids out you balloon.”
“You only have one! I believe you have a human in you …”
“I have many under me connected to my stomach … Do you want to see?”
“My lord has asked you a question you puny human!”
“Look into my eyes … Do you see death? Look into my mouth … Do you see the greed? Look at my spiky legs … Look at my spine … Look at my stomach … Look at my delicious slime. Look at me. What do I want? I can not go out in public now … I need eyes out there to see and a mouth to tell me.”
“You want me a spy?”
“Yessssss … Yes. I need a snake.”
“Is that what you are?”
“I am many things … Your worst nightmare is one.”
*Gulp …*
“You see that throne over there? That’s all mine now. I had to take it by force.”
“If I work for you … ”
“You do not work for me, you pathetic skin tissue … You are my slave and I command you to do.”
“Yes … I will … I will … I .. I promise.”
The Lord looked into his eyes with his sharp ones and smiled in ridicule.
“How amusing …”
“I will keep you here for days so you can taste the price of thinking about betraying me. The eye of Satan will be watching you … It will be the guardian and my slaves here will welcome you with whips, hammers, forks and you will dress in the neck torturer … You may only absorb your sweat.”
“Master! Please don’t leave me without food!”
“Well, it is your sin … You may only have pomegranate seeds.”
“Thank you my lord … Master … What is my mission?”
“It’s just one … You will know, do not rush. I intend to take over slowly.”
“What if … What if I fail?”
“It is alright … Then you only become my meal. I want you to disappoint me.”

Witches and demons

Witches are never born witches, it’s a choice. It’s not what they tell you in children’s stories … They don’t fly on brooms or have talking cats and they don’t have large pimples on their green noses and there are no good witches. The scariest thing is that they look like us and live normally between us and we see them around everyday.

The hair saloon I go to has female workers who are witches. They make sacrifices with chickens that they put in a sink every week, they put special food for their spirits on a little chair in the corner and use sticks of “Bakhour” it’s some kind of smoke that they use to summon spirits for they believe that they bless their jobs and give them success.

I know twins who work in a mall near my house, they look exactly the same and they’re both blind too. One of them sells pastries that he makes and he puts different potions in every kind. There’s the love me pastry, the hate her, the good marriage donuts, the cupcake of destruction.

Normal people think that they’re random names but they’re not. Nothing is random in this world and everything has a plan, a purpose and intentions … This scares me because you never know what those intentions are.

The second twin is an artist. He draws talismans, hidden sigils and Arabian letters in his paintings that form a demon’s name. Special orders for special customers and the more special the order is the more expensive it becomes. It’s all wicked spells and he hides them in the portrait’s eyes mostly whether it’s a hawk or a woman. Each symbol has a meaning and a job to do and he is a an artist on demand. The women love him, his women are loyal to him for they have never ending jealousy.

Old ladies that seem weak and friendly are in their houses with jars, pots and a room to invite them in. A cupboard filled with torn pages of religious books, black animals parts and blood. They just need pictures to do their jobs whether to break up a holy marriage or to put lust in someone’s heart towards the person who pays the money for the job and they call this a love potion. In the old times they needed a whole hair pulled out from the root to harm someone but now it’s all easy that they can just take a picture from Facebook. Women come and go with lots of money to spend.

Those fortune tellers you see … They have their demons around them and they talk to your demon to know what they want to know about you. Then they go to the sky and try to eavesdrop to know about your future until they get hit by lightening.

Most of those humans you see … They did ugly nasty things. They have to do a prayer for Satan before they start. They killed, they went to dig up corpses from their graves to stuff things into their throats. They pee on holy books and drink blood to please the devil. They performed black magic on other people and misguided them into the path of sins.

Each demon has a specific task to do, there’s a demon for divorce, a demon for lust, a demon to spread hatred, a demon who whispers in the ear of a man to seduce him to do terrible things … They all report back to Lucifer. Divorce is what pleases him the most.

There are kings, ministers, soldiers and servants; just like us. They live in ruins, in the bottom of seas, between things like on the staircases and near the doors. They love contradictions so they build castles on top of where the salty water meets the sweet or on where the warm water meets the cold, between shades and light. Some of them live in houses too, they’re called Ammar.

You know what scares me most? It’s that the demonic spirits think highly of themselves, they won’t do you a favour unless you do one for them first. This leaves me in wonder … What is it that they want a human to do for them? How far did these people go to get what they want?

You know why planes and ships disappear in Bermuda’s triangle? You don’t need me to tell you who lives there.
You’ve never felt their presence? You’ve never felt that someone is watching you?
You may not know any of witches or demons but I can tell you for sure that lots of them know you very well.

The fear of truth

What if you find a book that has all of the answers that you don’t want to know? Would you dare to read? What if then the way you see the world changes? Will you start to see people changing their skins? Will you see your chains which are made of humiliation?

Will you be inside a cage and its key is with a master of your fears? Will you even try to break free? A slave you are, a slave you will be when it falls into the hand of another slave for it is his only chance to switch. Will your blanket shrink then and stop covering your cold feet?

Never mind, you know what is scarier? If the answers were for Yes or No questions and all of them were Yeses. Now, after you read, a mighty door will open before you and strong white light comes out, will you go in or do you fear the light now?

Black and white picture

I still have a black and white picture … It is clearer this way, I get to see his true face and kiss those wrinkles; caused by his overdosed smiles. His true face … I can see it in his soul through those charming eyes.
He looked at me, and with one look he elicited my soul out so forcibly as if he called it forth and it obeyed … I felt like a lab rat, he was testing his control on me.

The best reason to hate him is that he made me smile once. His smile, on the other hand, is innocent and the most deceiving.
I remember the first time we had a connection … Our souls bonded and we had access to each other’s thoughts. We come from different tribes he and I, I come from the “Qatala”; the most deadliest and cruelest creatures. He is what you call a common, but he is unique.

We can never be together, we are different like water and fire. He is the symbol of Love and I am the symbol of Hate and chaos will fall on us like rain if the two mix. He has special powers of forcing his love into the coldest and he kills with kindness which I think is pathetic. His purity teases me, I hate the way he treats me, it makes me weak.
I see him sometimes, I avoid looking in those eyes, they have their way to make me feel like a human again and I resent it.

I am sure that he saw the darkness in my eyes and now sees me as one of his charity works … That light in your light soul has no cure for my black spirit. I see him sometimes doing the “Gaith” dance; it brings fortune to the poor ones, I see him juggling planets like they’re nothing too. I see him painting souls with feelings and it was disgusting, I see him riding the “Mumit” for fun; Mumit is a beast that can tear you in parts with one move. I also see him bringing life with a snap of a finger; bringing memories into thin air for people to see, and when I see him I see myself in chains too.

Sometimes I see him as an amusement; a clown. Sometimes I feel that he has my heart in his bare hands and it bleeds when he closes his fist; a master. I am the child of the desert and the sea and I shall return into dust when the sun rises from the west. My end, however, feels nearer when I see the threat in the heart of that child like man. I hope he never becomes my enemy, for he has great power on me. I hope he never becomes my lover, for he is such a distraction. I hope he stays nothing, that worthless half human.

The grey one meets grey

I was having a horrible nightmare about a mad clown who slashed his victim’s mouth from ear to ear … He said she has never smiled before and she needed it. I was woken up by the temperature in the room … It was so cold that my feet almost went blue. I woke up breathing out vapour as if it’s winter … On the edge of my bed there sits a grey troubled soul … He was a figure which took a man’s form with his head looking down.

I tried to talk with him and ask what was wrong. Yes, to talk, “Making contact” is a sentence I hate in horror movies. As if they are not like us … They feel and think. Yes they are beyond in another world under ours but they are around too. He took a look at me and faded into thin air. I wished to see him again … What was his name? Why is he in misery? I want to be a good friend and listen … Or am I in love?

I have always been curious and drawn to mystery. We shared a room together anyway, yes just because I own a piece of land on paper that doesn’t make it mine. They were here before us and we took over their world … This was his room before it was mine and he is kind enough to share it. Sometimes I see his diary next to my pillow, a language I can not understand. It looks Arabic but somehow in reverse, I’m not sure.

He’s not the only one I see, but he is the only one who is grey. I always wonder if the ones living in homes with us are different than those who live in seas, remains and near the graves. I have met some unpleasant creatures; half a goat, impossible to catch, their children, the deformed one who has a story of his own.

He, on the other hand, is more closer to my heart. He has a story that I want and he left me all alone. I am going on a mission to the ancient world beneath ours, of course I have to take permission from their king to get in and out. I shall make a deal with the witch who lives next door, I have a book that she wants and she knows how to summon kings and the retinue, she is well connected.

I wonder if the king will allow me to come back again if I knew too much … Will I find him? Will he tell me his story? Will my journey be unexpected and deadly? I must take this adventure even if I have to travel by spirit and leave my rotten body on this bed of mine. It is worth all the trouble. You will not understand … Not until the veil is removed; a curse yet a blessing. Our existence is metaphysical and beyond the human mind’s limitations, that is what you normal people need to know. Till then, see you …. Maybe.