The crescent moon has been sighted
Lantern of hope has been ignited.
Doors of mercy have been opened
And the devils have been chained.

It is the month,
Where clusters of sin await repentance
And good deeds worth are multiplied.

The month
In which we abstain from food
From dawn till dusk;
Empty stomachs
But tongue heavy from thikr.

A month
Enlightened with Allah's vast mercy
And extreme prosperity,
Tasting rewards
And bathing in immense blessing.

So choose to
Break mouldy habits
Reform the fabrics.
Reboot your entity
And Recharge your faith.

Choose to strengthen the backbone of your lives;
The pillars of Islam.
Recite the book that has been bonded with threads of faith
and encrusted with pristine words of Allah.

Choose to unshackle yourself
from the blackening shackles;
Untangle from messy mirage of the world
entwined with your wrist
And braid it into ladders to heaven.

Choose to join congregation at prayers
To pray to Allah seeking his affinity
Asking for forgiveness and pray for agility.

Choose to handle tough times with sincerity
And dig faith in one another.
For strength and forgiveness
can be found under his love
And this can be the month
That can bring you a step closer to Allah.

To the person
whose fierce loyalty
brings comfort.

Whose embracing hug
turns my hurricanes
into a whiff of wind.

The person who's my emotional crutch
on the struggling of days.
And the life vest
when I am drowning in pain.

To the person whose vibrant of all hues,
the bliss in my blues.
The shelter from torrential rain
And escape from my aching pain.

The listener
of my stirring experiences
and muddled-darkened thoughts.

The one
Who's ear is made of patient-empathetic cells
And words of underlying calmness
that seeps deep into the depth of my bones
and soothes my soul.

With you
Best moments are
Exponentially happier;
Much more vivid and illuminated
Worst times made bearable
And Infinitely less nerve-wracking.

You are my go-to
at any point of day.
The Christina to my Meredith
And the star of my Starbucks visits.

I am grateful to be
deeply embedded in your heart
as you are in mine.
To be your sanctuary
As I am yours.

Mother,
The epitome of love.

A star made of combustion
Of crimson and wild blue.
Her smile like a cresent
shining bright
from an afar Galaxy.

Mother,
Vibrant as sun rays,
And soft like the moonlight.
Tremendous as lightning,
enlightning the dark sky
with a spark.

Mother,
The paintbrush
that paints vibrancy
on the dullest of days.

Mother,
A soul that burns with ferocity,
Whos hands are always busy
scrubbing, moulding, cooking
But her touch always caressing with love.

Mother,
Who's voice can be the ocean
Calming and soothing
Or as loud as the seas
Roaring and crashing in a storm
bursting away personal confinement.

But she rows
Even through the sea of troubles.
Nothing is too heavy
She marches on.

Mother,
Who sacrifices and compromises
To deepen skies
and hand stars to hold.

Mother,
Who's love I cannot comprehend and stomach
For she grows flowers from pain,
Inhaling O2
And Exhaling O3
Transfiguring weeds into garden for us to play.

She is the incarnation of love.

Mental illness is rising
Psychologists' career are blooming
Social media is redefining
Making it a beautiful suffering

Sadness has become boring
Misery has become enchanting
Scar has become beauty
Grief has become engaging
Depression has become alluring

Emotions have become art
Heartbreak has become a heart-wrenching song
Pain has become poetry
and mental illness has become a edgy-trending label.

When did they start to disguise agony behind such beauty?

Her demons wiped away her fear
They made her fall in love with them
and dance with them
For they were the only comfort
when she was alone

Lazy she may seem
But how does she explain she is hurting
She is wounded
Bruised
Energyless to do even the simplest of tasks
For she wants to be alone in her own world,
shut the world out
and write

For her mind whispers
to her soul to end
itself.