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Yousra Amatullah Nov 2021
Like an autumn tree
Let us absorb reality
Starting at the roots
Until our branches rain mastery

Reflect upon us like the sun does
Enlighten my trunk, my fiber
Sweeten the fruits of my leaves
Only to match the touch of saffron soil

To grow green, silk & brocade, I pray
Ending fall season, turned into gold, I supplicate
Naggingly I ask You, ٱلْمُعِزُّ
Gather this four-season-Ummah with just one breeze
Yousra Amatullah Feb 2021
Shallowness got them waiting on a valueless ♡letter.
Whilst You've sent them a ♡book, containing 114 ♡chapters.. Oh Loving One, if they only knew better.

Darkness got their hearts blindfolded, they can't see.
He, not my brother, has the soul of a detainee.
Whilst Your Light gave us sight, the opportunity to just be and for our souls to remain free.
...

Though, there are times where we don't know how to pursue.
Naggingly we beg You to help us through,
Cause all we want is being so heavenly close to You.

Guide, please help the lost too,
And please ٱلْغَفَّارُ forgive this veiled crew.
Every interaction makes me blue.
Oh only if the meaning to Your divine words they knew..

Almost everyday my soul sang,
Trying to cope with the fact that I couldn't get along,
With those who are constantly whispering another song.

I felt left out for generations,
Not impressed by their so called sensations,
Not dealing the same way with worldly temptations.

To the extent that I almost doubted what we inhaled,
It couldn't be the same, with their hearts veiled..
Made me think about us being scaled, and therefore not wanting to act derailed.

I've left myself out of this tremendous way of living,
Only to hear them whisper what I should be giving,
Parts of my soul and body - why bother, isn't He Most Forgiving?

Now I can't say I do,
I give away parts of my breath whenever I try to exhale - for if they only knew..
My soul is still intact, my body attached to the feeling of obeying You.
I wish I could be like the street urchin
Unpampered uncared but not sad
Wear daylong a cloudless grin
Be in manners and etiquette bad!

I want to be bad
I need to be bad
Am too shackled by the good

I want to be like him
The street urchin
Carelessly capriciously crude!


Too long I have been by the good enslaved
Hold captive in its pretentious cask
Too long for good I have naggingly craved
Let it cut out for me all my task!

*I want to be bad
I need to be bad
Am dying for the untasted brew

I want to be like him
The street urchin
Treating good too good to be true!
Niel Nov 2020
Our premeditations are spontaneous happenings
           Expressing itself in tense repititions.
                     naggingly, seemingly stuck in ruttage
             but really a strategy of suggestedness
         In a select position.
                     Spinning ideas collected for comfort
    A platter of minute individualistics
               Not so plain to see
                    But relevant anyway

— The End —