An eye awoke; the cosmos caught aflame,
Glowing stars gathered—each none quite the same.
Her eyes, like sparks, called him by tender names,
And in that gaze, the night shed all its claims.

The moon chased from every direction,
Lost in orbit of her sweet affection.
No silver light could dare compete,
With the fire that made his heart complete.

You were my angel.
I was fading into the background,
and you reached out your hand.
You carried me to the sun,
and showed me everything I thought I needed.

I was worried we would burn up,
from how bright it was around us.
But it was a useless fear,
because you let go.

You were supposed to save me.
You were supposed to be my everything.
I fell for so long,
yet so fast.

Now I've finally stopped falling,
and I'm bleeding out on the pavement.

O’ Jamil! Arise, arise! The dawn awaits your flame,
Not as a flicker, faint and frail, but a sun none can tame.
Yet haste is the foe of wisdom, the traitor of the soul,
For destinies are not cast in haste, but forged in measured coal.
The mountains bow to none but those who climb with patient feet,
The ocean’s depth is not revealed by waves that blindly beat.
The pen that writes eternal tales moves with a sovereign will,
O’ Jamil, become part of the story, and be written slowly still.

Not by the fleeting breath of time, nor by the tempest’s roar,
But by the silent hand that shapes the clay to something more.
The rose that claims its bloom at once is robbed of sacred pride,
The sun ascends the eastern sky, but only with the tide.

In every heart the latent spark awaits the perfect hour,
To blaze a path through endless night with majesty and power.
But power without patience is but ash upon the breeze —
O’ Jamil! Be steadfast, walk with grace, and bend your will with ease.

Yet know — the flame that softly glows may set the world ablaze,
The gentle seed that falls in soil can birth eternal days.
No storm nor lightning need you chase; within, a sun resides,
A fearless light, a boundless charm, the Self that never hides.

So sing! Sing loud, O’ beautiful, with courage and delight —
Each step a dance upon the stars, each breath a burning light.
Write not in haste, but with a smile, the story you fulfil —
O’ Jamil, become part of the story, and be written slowly still.

I see a light—
small,
but burning bright.

I’m finding the way.
This is no longer a well,
it’s a tunnel.

And stumbling forward,
I’m finding
the exit.