Vengeance Is Mine - The False Wrath of Islam
This dream was not an ordinary dream, it was a lesson to be learned and understood for something that plagues us to this very day. Fear! But more
specifically the fear of Extremist Islam and it's grasp of terrorism that has spread across the globe.
It was a beautiful sunny day, there were people walking around a plaza of sort, maybe it was a celebration and yet maybe it was just a mere dream.
However, something strange happened there was a medium sized truck or van, it drove in slowly as if to unload things for this celebration or event.
Something was strange about it and as I approached it slowly with morbid curiosity, staring at it strangely as if being out of place within this
dream. I than for reasons unknown muttered to myself "Oh God NO!" and as I was struck by the realization of what was about to transpire the truck/van
exploded engulfing me in flames. From the moment I guess I died within the dream I went into a perspective of an observatory view, like a drone
watching it all, the buildings in the plaza were shaken and collapsed all around from the blast.
There were splatters of blood all around the ground as if skid marks of people being flung and dragged across the rugged surface, there were women and
children laying motionless, not to mention bodies with blown off limbs. As I woke up in my bed trying to ask God, It, The Universe, Creation or
Whatever the important question of -
Why?
I felt as if being pulled back into sleep and I began to have the entire event rewind in full, buildings being reconstructed, people being flung back
into their original positions, as the ground shook from the force of whatever was doing this, I realized that there is an importance of all this being
done. Upon the assembly of everything back to it's original, celebratory state and peaceful time on a beautiful sunny day, everything had been frozen
and it seemed as if time itself stopped. However, I knew that it was not me in control of the dream and I had no real control over anything within it
although it felt lucid.
I then heard the same voice as if of emotion whisper to me
"Go Forth and See", while walking towards the truck I noticed that the man sitting
in it seemed of Arabic descent I thought to myself that "Well just another terrorist attack...". Something threw me off instantly as I approached even
further, as I began to approach him the event was playing over again but the interesting part was that he said nothing that would signify Islam. At
this moment the event was frozen and was reconstructed again in the same mystical confusing matter, I entered the truck and sat in the passenger seat
and the event started to play again.
While sitting next to the man I saw a rosary hang from the front of his rear view mirror, there were wires heading from the back of the sealed off
area of the truck to what I would assume was the detonator. He did not have his hand on it, he was not proclaiming Islam but instead he was crying
while holding something dear to him. He was holding a photo of his family, there was 2 kids a boy and a girl they seemed young maybe 10-13 years old,
a wife who seemed happy smiling and what I would assume are his parents, there was pure joy and happiness in that photo.
As he kept touching the photo and weeping over it, I realized this man had lost everything and all that gave him love, hope and joy was wiped from the
face of this world. He kissed the photo and sadly muttered
"It is the only way that they will know, they too must experience the pain. Vengeance is
mine to bare please forgive me...". He embraced the photo and pressed the detonator as time froze before the blast I was staring at him and I know
it must have been just a dream but I still said "God or Whatever you are, please forgive him for his pain is greater than any pain a man should
bare".
Once time unfroze and I was engulfed by the flames yet again I went to a perspective of observation yet again, this time the time itself went
straightforward to what I would assume was when the authorities arrived. I was walking through the plaza, investigators were taking pictures, others
were covering up the bodies and wheeling them away, there were reporters speaking all different languages. However, what made me truly shocked is that
they all were saying things such as "The man as a final act of terror screamed out God is Great and detonated the vehicle.. This truly is a horrifying
day and as always a constant reminder of Islamic Extremism...." etc.
While I sat down on broken bench I knew that the media was fueling things even more with fear, not to mention that the man was not a Muslim he was
either Catholic or Christian - Why do they falsify Islam? Does Islam sell? What are they selling?
As I sat remembering the man embracing the photo of his family I shed a tear and whispered "I'm sorry we humans know not what we do for men that have
no souls but only love of power and worship of money". That's when as I looked up in the distance across the plaza there was a man in a black slick
suit, drinking coffee, whistling and grinning, he slowly got up looked at me and winked then finally vanished in black like fog or mist.
Who was he?
As I dwell deeper and deeper I realize that there really are 2 sides and maybe it's true we are now at a point where we must choose what side we stand
on. And yet this was merely a dream...
edit on 12 10 2017 by WonderingDreamer because: +info