Flowers stay away from my path.
Thorns is what I want on my track.
That is the only way to my destination.

To my right a youth
amidst bubbles of dream.
Rays of hope and promise
made his face gleam.

To my left on ruins of dream
sat a man tired and old.
Face marked with lines
of pain and suffering untold.

Who were they?
as if I know,
my stressed mind
cannot recall, though.

I think through windows
of time, I saw another me.

Allah was his ears
As sounds unlawful, unethical it never heard.
Secrets, gossips and rumours were also barred.
It buzzed with words of Quran day and night
Always Open to sounds just and upright.

Allah was his eyes
As it looked parents, orphans and needy with love
Brimmed with tears thinking of Almighty above
It never despised his brother and from lust it was freed.
Gold and silver had no worth and had no signs of greed.

Allah was his hands
As it stopped things reprehensible with force
In Allah's cause spent abundantly his resource
It caressed the head of an orphan in affection.
Time and again meekly raised it in supplication.

Allah was his feet
As it never moved towards things which Allah hate
Avoided walking arrogantly with a strutting gait
It always ran to help downtrodden, oppressed.
For knowledge for light it was on constant quest.

He had mountains of obligatory good deeds
He had mountains of non-obligatory good deeds
His protector was Allah The Almighty
His enemy was enemy of Allah The Almighty
He was beloved of Allah
He was friend of Allah
He was Wali of Allah
He was Waliullah.

Let the words do the trick,
Just write anything.
Surmising eyes will
find the meaning.

Saw a wretched man
living in shacks
His beliefs were very
soft just like wax
Bought his beliefs
with bundle of rupees
Took it in sunlight and
molded with ease

Saw a gullible man
standing on street
Cheated his beliefs
with language sweet
His beliefs resembled
some old wood
Sawed and chiseled
it the best I could

Saw a strong man
holding his beliefs tight
Forcefully took his
beliefs with a fight
His beliefs were
like some metal hard
To bring it in shape I
hammered and charred

So much it wants to say,
so much it wants to speak.
My inflexible tongue,
useless and weak.
like blank pages
it ***** and flutters.
as if so much
it wants to utter.
It invites me to
explore and scroll.
I need a pen for
my unwritten soul.

I am striving for perfection.
Yet imperfections you'll see.
Much goodness you'll find.
Yet their is much fault in me.

If bit of forgiveness, patience;
And mercy in me you see.
Please know I am son of Adam.
There is something of God in me.

If bit of arrogance, jealousy;
And hatred in me you see,
Please know I am son of Adam.
Evil Lucifer circulates within me.