 Bismillahirrahmanirrahim. This is a piece of written last Ramadan. The devil is shackled, yet the voices are still here. There's still demons in my dungeons. They are whispers in my ears. Let me tell you about these spirits. I thought the monsters to say the least. Fear, loathing, shame, sorrow, living wounds, bearing teeth. They kept my nefs so lonely, so I hid with them for years. Abandoned all community, I thought at best I'd disappear. But I knew I had to free myself, so I set out to find a home. In a world beyond the spoken, to sit by God, to find his throne. And I took my demons to the mountains, tried to sacrifice them on four peaks. Then one night, in lonely question, resurrected, they came to me. They said, Emil, you cannot kill us. You must convert us to your Dean. You can't race us. You must face us. You must see what's been unseen. The more you run, the more we grow. We'll grow like pests inside your heart. Begging you to pay attention, you will not heal as we take part. I could not bear it all my monsters. They were asking me to know them. Was this some kind of joke all I've ever known was to woe them? But then, I listened closely, and I could hear them speak. I heard them mumbling dua, they said, Ya Allah, don't let us sink. We are gasping, we are gulping, one moment hopeful then despairing. We want to try to end this life. We feel our soul is up and tearing. So like Ishaq, I took their knife. I told them hope is truly daring. Every day is a new life, like the waves all reappearing. All these monsters inside of me, they just needed some attention. Turns out these monsters inside of me also needed Allah's affection. My Lord, You are mercy. All we seek is the light You bring. Help us heal our wounds and demons, let us make it through to spring. Invite us to the halakas with those who know our pain. Show us all Your barakah, send Your Rahma down like rain. This world is all collapsing, but my monsters have repented. I was lost, but now I'm found by these feelings God had sent me. My brothers and my sisters, when it seems the end is near, hug the heartache and the monsters, pray to God He's Esamir. Stop running from your monsters, heal them, set them free. Invite them with the butterflies into the garden under this tree. All this burden, all this broken, it expands the chest inside. If our hearts were not cracked open, where else would faith reside? So let your knees buckle and let your tears fall. Exhaust the angel on your shoulder so even he can't write it all. My name is Emel and my name is Hope. Always keep friendship and community inside of your dua and treat my mother in there too. Hi Mama, I love you. Salamu alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh.