Poetry

Trusting His Plans

As I stepped in to the mosque, I often wonder why You’d put me here. The weakest of your servants in Your home.

Flawed though hidden, I don’t deserve the slightest shade Your roof provided me, not even in this dunya when I sinned. I sinned beyond any of your creation’s mind could have thought, but you covered me with the purest of blankets I could have never afford.

You protected my dignity from falling to the pits of anger and disappointments for the people I love.

As I stood here, once more, stepping into Your home I wonder will You ever forgive me.

Ya Rabb, I know You’re the most merciful. You’ve opened the door to Your home for me, and now I’m begging You to open the door of forgiveness for me.

Guide me for I know not, for I’m in dire need of every light to come through this sorrowful dark heart. Guide me on how to attain practices of every verses that Your Beloved part.

I’m in desperate need to be kept in Your light and I realise then why You’d put me here. I realise then it’s where I needed to be to start my journey back to my eternal home.

Keep me in Your light and path till then. Keep me here and I’ll promise I’ll trust Your plans. Promise me You’ll give me the purest end.

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Poetry

Her New Cheer

He stopped her fears from turning into tears,
And made her realise the light she still had, even after all of her dark years.

For He had always kept her near,
To give her the happiness that she rightfully deserve.

And maybe that will be her new cheer,
To keep striving to be with the beloved of her Creator.

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Poetry

If my Lord asks me

A poem that made Imam Ahmad cry….

If my Lord asks me, “Have you shyness in disobeying me?”

You conceal your sins from my creations – and with sins you come to me.

So how will I answer, O woe to me – and who shall protect me

I keep averting my soul with thoughts of hope from time to time

And I forget what is to come after my death- and what is to come after I shrouded.

As if I am guaranteed life (eternally) – and that death will not come to me.

And when the severe stupor of death overtakes me – who will protect me?

I looked at the faces; is there not from amongst them who will ransom me?

I will be asked regarding what I have prepared in my life to save me (on the Day of Judgement).

Then how will I answer – after I have neglected my religion.

Woe to me! Did I not hear the Speech of Allāh inviting me?

Did I not hear what came in (the chapters of) Qāf and Yā-Sīn?

Did I not hear about the Day of Gathering, the Day of Assemble and the Day of Judgement?

Did I not hear the crier of death inviting me, calling me?

So O my Lord, a slave (turning to you) I have repented – so who then shall shelter me?

Except a Lord extensive in forgiveness – to the truth He will guide me.

I have come to you (in repentance) – so have mercy on me, and make heavy my scales (with good deeds).

And lighten my account – You are the best of who will bring me to account.

 

 

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Poetry

Hate In Red

For all this hatred,
Have they lost their touch of humanity,
For the rage of flames are just insanity.

For all this hatred,
Have they lost their means of credibility,
For the news are no longer prevailed truthfully.

For all this hatred,
Have they lost their compassion wholeheartedly,
For the knives are used to pierce through human lives blindly.

For all this hatred,
Have they lost to love’s calling wholly
For I longed the time where all this hate in red,
I no longer see.

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Poetry

A Believer’s Worry

Could it be a worry that I only write in the peak of my sorrows?
Could it be a worry that I only write in the soars of my enlightenment?
For you are the comfort I heaved in my writings, delicately though flawed.
Could it be a worry?

Stop worrying, dear believer.
You are in good hands of The All Writer, of Your Creator.

Indeed you plan and Your Lord plan but His plans are better.

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