A pen in my hand, a blank page in my sight,
gazing in my eyes as empty as a broken heart.
Waiting for someone to fill them with care,
With warmth and with love that lingers there.

Oh, my days, you’ve thrown on me life’s heavy rain,
A mountain collapsing, stones crowding my lane.
But I whisper, “Huda, one day you’ll be free,
No mountain holds stones enough to harm thee.”

And life will unfold as a silk-covered street,
No stones, no holes — just beauty beneath my feet.