O my friends! Tears pour forth from her eyes, and her heart feels a
melancholic remorse...her nose begins to run and pain and agony
grow…
Her head begins to ache, and her throat becomes sore. The nose becomes
blocked and her voice becomes broken.
As I sit there in my prison of grief, I marvel at how that accursed devil
must be looking at me right now, laughing happily and in victory at my
miserable defeat!
Truly he got hold of my soul and crushed it!
A spiritual claustrophobia overwhelms her and her heart begins to
shrink.
She raises her heavy hands towards the heavens and her spirit cries,
Ya Rabiy al-Wadood! Make for my heart a home in Your Loving
Hands.
Ya Rabbiy ar-Rahman! Reject not this weak heart who seeks refuge in
Your Protecting Hands.
Ya Mawla! Ya Wali! Let not my heart become homeless and imprisoned
within the clutches of shaytan...
Nor let it become soiled with my own reckless hands...
The rays of His mercy enter her heart and she lifts the stones of
melancholy away from her smothered soul.