There are many things in the world, a bit of everything. The world is full of different types of people and different cultures and professions and so on. In such a world, one views the outside of his citadel through the filters of what selected and baised stories the curtains of his life exhibit to him.

Your little citadel

Many people fall into obsession with the little truths and duplicity shown by the curtains which they have accepted as the world. But not you. You have a need for truth, a need for other to know the truth maybe or maybe you are looking for the truth yourself. So instead of blindly getting finnessed by the stories of the deceptive devils you search for the truth. And you get a bit of everything.

And it is only then, after you find yourself weeping next to the grave of the legendary poet that you finally part ways with yourself. Either stay wrapped in the comfortable blankets of the hordes, blindly following the slave's deception with no worry whatsoever about the opressed who have grown accustomed to the terrors of being the spring of the satanics' crimson rivers.

Or you spread your wing of mercy, either out of pity or fury, moving on with your life, Asad