O Khidr! My tricky friend and true, my green Satan, my soul-destroyer... You've pounded my heart into a tasty morsel, thrust me onto a skewer, and roasted me like kabob. I never knew I could be so delicious. The friends of God do not understand my love for you. They think me mad, of no account; they imagine my joy is from lack of understanding. I tell your tales and do my part, but even if they hear me they don't listen. As for me, I choose that wild and reckless dance! headlong into the fire. Turn me over the coals -- again, and yet again -- that I may wear this blackened char of self as my crown of glory.