missed call from shaytan

At 1AM, my phone did ring, No name, no pic — just that sharp sting. A whisper through the silent room, Like smoke that creeps before the gloom. A missed call, but it hit my heart, He knows just when to play his part. When I’m alone and feeling weak, That’s when his voice begins to speak. “Just scroll a bit, what harm is there?” He tempts me with a sultry stare. “It’s just a glance, not quite a sin,” But that’s the way he pulls you in. He calls with whispers, never shouts, He plants the seed, then feeds the doubts. He wears a mask, he hides in trend, And plays the role of trusted friend. But I won’t pick, I’ve seen the cost, The joy is fake, the peace is lost. I need no thrills that lead to pain, No sugar laced with hidden chain. I blocked his number with my prayer, I seek refuge from his snare. I feed my soul with Qur’an’s light, And battle back with all my might. So if he calls — let it ring long, I’ll play my zikr, I’ll stay strong. Missed calls come often, that’s the test, But I won’t give him heart or rest.