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 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. 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.