In the name of Allah – My Creator, Most High, Most Exalted.
These are the concerns of my seeking heart.
It bows like a willow tree but snow doth avoid it;
It stretches to the sun, weak branches threatening to wither and break in the wind – too strong;
Yet still, palms upright, clear in sight,
Seeking alms from the sun,
Yet the shame I am encrusted in
Drives me to run;
Where is the Truth
And has the Truth really come to me?
Am I to question, lies and Truth,
Or a hypocrite be?
Why doesn’t the silence I hide in
Sing to my heart?
What part of the equation
Has torn me apart?
Should I continue to lie
Not to one, but to all?
Is this ladder worth climbing
When I know I will fall?
It may be that the moment I raise a sword in Your name,
A million more will cut me down,
But Glory and glory are not the same,
and in no other sea do I wish to drown.
This heart despairs in the sight of man,
For in the sight of man lies agony and falsehood.
It worries so much of the disease
That it has forgotten the existence
Of the Cure.
Is it this fear that has kept me away from You?