ameriKKKa's Most Hated Muslim Poet
At eighteen he barely slept. Seldom did he get a wink. Staying on combat alert he actually rarely blinked.
The odium of War was wearing upon his nerves, soul and mind. The stress he felt might fell him. Opium quelled him.
He could not get to sleep not even a wink. Milky bleeds of the raw poppy seed pod gave him such relief as he floated on cloud nine.
Only by the mercy and with the forgiveness of Allah was he able to decline the alluring, tempting arms of Morphina
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