The world is but a broken dream, a fleeting, empty jest,
I wander through its hollow halls, in search of sacred rest.
What is the meaning of this life, what lies beyond this veil?
Only those who walk the path of truth can hear the sacred tale.

O' friend, my companion in the realm unseen,
Where love is fire and faith is green,
Lead me through the sacred dark, where secrets hide and breathe,
Through realms of silence, deep and stark, where the heart can truly seethe.

In the garden of the eternal soul, where silence reigns supreme,
I cast aside the shadows and seek the eternal dream.
Beyond the veils of earthly grief, beyond the hands of fate,
There lies the endless, shining light that calls, that waits.

O' soul, who walks beyond the stars, beyond the dust of man,
Guide me through this fleeting world, with your infinite plan.
For in the depths of mystery, where nothing is what it seems,
We shall find the holy path—where truth is sown in dreams.

What a spark, what a flame, when these eyes first saw,
The dance of light, the world without flaw?
When these hands, born of clay and dust,
Poured forth warmth, a gift, a divine trust?

When the tongue, a prisoner of silence so deep,
Broke free with a word, a promise to keep?
What sweetness filled these humble ears,
When the first sound stirred the heart’s silent fears?

When this tiny heart, so full of desire,
Met belief like a spark to an unlit fire?
When the lips of this child, kissed by the dawn,
Smiled at the world, and all sorrow was gone?

When the body, this vessel of earthly woe,
Was styled by love’s hand, a graceful glow?
What a moment, what a scene, O’ Jamil, I ask,
Could such be the work of a gene—or love’s mask?