A Poem Rumi Forgot to Complete

Screams in the Night He was losing his mind.  He had already lost it.  But that night, oh that cruel night! How could he forget that damn cruel nasty night!-- when he lost everything! His ego, his attitude, his life, his dreams, his parents– everything he worked for. Even his job.  Just because of that damn crow. Suddenly, this crow here before him became unattractive. Suddenly, crows were no longer his favorite. Suddenly, he lost the will– the determination to kill this crow. It would have brought him no satisfaction.  He was indecisive. For the first time in his life, he was indecisive. He wanted to kill that damn crow but at the same time, he wanted to protect it.  What exactly did he need?  He had no clue.  "Am I just being insane? Or the world has gone mad?"  Suddenly, a new urge– he needed to make a coffee. Yes, he needed to make a coffee. So he went to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee, delicious and hot. But he was not going to drink it...

Echoes of Torment  "Can I help you, darling?"  "How long it has been?" he muttered. She remained silent. "Now, you won't even answer me?"  "I didn't get your question." "Wasn't that simple enough? I asked how long it’s been?"  "You’ve known me for ten years, darling." "Did I ask that?” he screamed at her. “Don’t act all innocent!-- just tell me!!" "It has been three years." Her voice was as calm as pouring yoghurt.  "Go away."  So she went away. She wasn’t really necessary. He just enjoyed torturing her.  Who even was she? He didn’t remember, truth be told– or he just didn’t care to remember. What difference did it make, and who? But he recalled what it had been like. Chopping off her fingers.  Three years ago– just sitting there, minding her own business. He’d just pulled out a sharp knife, asked for her hands, and cut her fingers one by one– like that. Like he’d been prepping vegetab...

Whispers of the Wicked He looked at his shaking hands. A few weeks ago, he was just fine. He had no trembling hands. He did not sneeze and cough most of the time. He was full of energy. He was never grateful for that.  "Did I take my health for granted? Isn't this the same for everyone?"  This was his first time experiencing this kind of thing, the illness. Definitely, health was a top priority but he had taken many things for granted, his career, his partner, his life, his happiness, God, everything he could think of. He had taken almost everything for granted. He was so sure that he would never lose any of them. So, he took everything causally. Nothing was important for him anymore. Not his name nor his fame. He preferred to keep it simple, but was his life really simple?  He thought in the middle of the night. He looked back at his past, full of regrets but he wasn't ashamed, he never would be. Because that's what he was - a shameless person with no regard for ...