Eclipsed by Love

This sensation of power you feel towards something residing beneath your skin, called muscles, is strange. But what is this secret that lies beyond the neurons and complex chemical transmitters called the brain? What is the greater secret that lies behind a world I would like to call the unseen—the mind? I believe that if all the secrets of the mind's essence were uncovered, aside from what has been revealed about the brain, which is the home of the intellect, humanity would possess the keys to this world and believe it had control over it. And how I dread and despair the day humanity will challenge the strongest will known to humanity to acquire everything possible in this existence, considering it all without boundaries.

This, of course, is what humanity will automatically do when it controls its mind, guided purely by materialism, leading all humans towards a chasm, the first phase being knowledge and the last, destruction. If we knew the unseen, we would choose reality...

I will continue to argue and question myself about the essence of reality and the unseen, and I believe they are opposing sides that cannot exist for one cause. Rather, I firmly assert that they are the poles of divergent magnets that scarcely draw near one another before one distances itself from the scene. They lose themselves away from the source of stimulation, which is humankind, thus becoming enemies; this fights the other fiercely. Reality finds no alternative but to combat this nothingness called the unknown, through the mind, imagination, and materialism, producing a continuous harmony of events that fill the chaos of reality, affecting those living it negatively or positively.

I believe in this extension that the unknown called imagination will wage an uneven struggle against reality, fighting together towards a field more than just a life; it becomes a life of equality in all facets, where the master behaves as the servant before the first and last arbiter: divine justice.

Without a doubt, those reading this complex article might have their imaginations stirred by ideas and things I imply but may not. However, this does not matter for I am merely a source of writing conveying what flows through my mind as thoughts resulting from an idea that sparked and detonated the rest of your thoughts, leading the events until my letters reached your sight and hearing.

It is the theater of life, based on the foundations of human relationships that transpire between humans, leading to events from their inception to their conclusion through a dramatic path, whether comical, sad, joyful, or even hostile and violent. The timelines commence until time concludes, something that is self-evident.

So, do not anticipate an end because, in this era, there is no end to anything except through death, and no one dies from the memories of someone else but through the death of all humanity. This is something unlikely to happen unless all beings in the universe perish, which will never transpire except by the blowing of the trumpet. God said, "And the trumpet will be blown, and whoever is in the heavens and whoever is on the earth will fall dead, except whom Allah wills."

I cried until existence wept for the loss of my beloved

And wiped my tears with all my sorrow as I concealed my sorrows.

I thought and wandered the streets searching in your window for my calm.

Time mocked me when I remembered my pains and sufferings.

In your love, I write a tear of despair, hoping your heart will hear me.

Is it not time for the night? Thus spoke the moon with harshness and hostility.

What was it for my fate to respond at that moment?

But the lifetimes and fated paths...

What was my poetry to sing like this?

Like a bird's chirping of an anxious soul...

Will my night be for you, hoping, or is my world fated from your world?

Could it be that I have forgotten your face after parting, like shadows and clouds?

By your life, tell my story before dawn, may I sleep, and in the morning, I arise.

So when I awoke, I saw my night had its smile,

Like the dawn's smile shining more brightly than the sun's.

So my heart spoke the sweetest words at sunset,

O night, you who were sweeter than yesterday.

Glory be to Him who shaped you, illuminating the darkness,

O my beloved, you are my light, my dawn, and my touch.

To the light of dawn, I gaze every night; do not delay,

O sun that I have chosen and beautified,

Oh, my beloved, do not forget me, you who are dearer to me than my own self.