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Scruples of the Devil
Scruples of the Devil
Scruples of the Devil
Ebook113 pages48 minutes

Scruples of the Devil

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"This book is an amalgamation of some of my poems, written over three decades and writen in three continents. They centre around the themes of Man's purposes in life and the questions he has on why he despairs as much as he does? And you say...?"
LanguageEnglish
Release dateAug 10, 2012
ISBN9781477221822
Scruples of the Devil
Author

Ayad Gharbawi

Ayad Gharbawi graduated from Boston University in 1989 with an MA degree; he has had several books published in a variety of subjects. One of his best selling work is 'Conversations With Hitler And Stalin'. He lives in Surrey, England.

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    Scruples of the Devil - Ayad Gharbawi

    © 2012 Ayad Gharbawi. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    First published by AuthorHouse 8/7/2012

    ISBN: 978-1-4772-2181-5 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4772-2182-2 (e)

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Contents

    2010 – Damascus, Syria

    Circus of Life!

    Confessions of a Professional Idiot – [Myself]

    Death of a Candle

    Distant Wisdom

    Don’t Worry If You Should See Me

    Essences I Feel

    Fugitive From Injustice

    Gala Awards For Pedophiles

    Give Up Giving

    God – Please Give Me Peace?

    How Can I Understand That Which Is Undefinable?

    How Come No One Noticed The Killers of Jesus?

    Howls of an Insane Woman

    Humans Are Hurtful Crumbs

    I Know I’m Killing Myself

    Lady of the Secluded Ponds

    Letter Found on Dead Woman

    Life’s Concrete Knowledge

    My Baby Boy, Pidi

    My Beloved Son

    My Exit That I Couldn’t Find

    Rejoice!

    Sad Woman

    Savage Is Life

    So Near, Yet So Far

    Sudden Suicide

    Talking to a Suicidal Woman

    The Advice of a Sage Woman

    The Anonymous Letter Signed ‘Sarah’

    The Barren Skulls

    The Empty Human

    The Final Poem Man Will Write

    The Great Pretender!

    The Inhuman Journey

    The Paranoid Logician

    The Sprit Shall Live

    The Tyrant’s Final Speech

    Unknown Soldier

    Vile ‘Human’

    We Are All Prisonors in This Life

    What Difference Does It Make?

    2010 – Damascus, Syria

    Location: Desert Shore, Bitterly Cold Night, next to strong waves from the ocean.

    Characters: Man ((M) and his Lover, a Woman (W).

    W: Search as I forever do, in manifold ways unknown, I seek but to love thee, and the meagre goodness from Life, with steely ardour - my armour faithful.

    M: Alone I may be, and still, yes I love thee; these days heavy are and beset I am by burdensome trivialities, but I remain trusting, though my corner so narrow remain.

    W: My Love! Your speech I hear aloud and thine lips I live within and yet, my Love, all Solitude I am. Man! I am unaided! In this journey of sinful thorns, my love, in this unforgiving journey, this blurred odyssey, I stand alone.

    M: This trial you speak of, but I do know of it well; so, listen then: within the strength of trusted togetherness we can plough on, though everlasting harm shall do its spiteful tricks, warm to our united truth shall we remain.

    W: (Surprised) O! My love! This thought I cannot hear! My life, my destiny, is but mine. And all have their own solitary roads of jagged rocks to embrace, like it we or not. We heartbreaking earthly sad beasts, either fiercely clutch at integrity, or we do let it go to perish away.

    M: (Confused) My Love! I do hear, I do hear. But when Times decide on burdening us, what then can we achieve? To face Reality within the frail arms of solitude is to ignore, to refuse the severe threats of repulsive grins.

    (Silence)

    M: (Passionately) O! My sweet! Only in us, can we envelope, through joined, clasped warmth can we be as one united! The screams that so truly are meant to slice us off, only we, our Unity, can destroy. For mine eyes can only find sleep in your ears, and it is so - for otherwise nothing and no one can be.

    W: (Angry) "My Passion too is bubbling for thine bewildered ears. Am I not your soul? Do we not suffer as one? Do we not reflect as one? Am I not your lover

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