Blessed are the hearts,
that are pure, sweet, and naive
Who guard their innocence through hurdles of life
Not letting it be tainted,
Polluted,
Corrupted,
By manipulations and greed...
Blessed are the hearts
Whose sole indulgence are the joy of others,
Along, with, not alone
Withstand, not with temptations...

And yet curses,...
Cursed, or rather, condemned,
Condemed are those,...
Whose hearts are full of filths and self gratifications,
Who are ignorant on the sufferings of others,
In the name of "I'm jealous",
Of comfort, of ambitions,
Spitting nothing but contempt,
Showing different sides of one coin,
yet alone,
on one's face...
Them...
Shame...
For they would never know the beauty inside out,... nor peace,
nor true happiness...
Is it what you want little heart?...

I don't think I spend too much,
But then I spill out my shoe
Collection, an addiction sorted by hue.
Cupboards flung open to reveal the gradient of such
And don't get me started on bags and the clutch!

Rivers of life run deep,
But then I look at the contents of my journals;
The "now and not yet" cries reveal how hormonal
Am I. Dim focus on the eternal creeps
To cover more of the heart, I try to keep.

New year near and nearer;
But a return to stillness yearns.
When we hide, these addictions burn,
Igniting guilt, shame and all,
Where are you simplicity? Is this the fall?

I was on a journey to find my core,
Through heartaches deep, in search of something true.
A soul adrift, emotions all askew,
In quest of worth, I longed for something more.


Through winding paths where shadows seemed to creep,
I sought for treasures in life's vast array,
Yet each pursuit left me in disarray,
As yearning eyes welled up with tears to weep.


In the final dusk, clarity emerged,
A whisper soft, a truth that set me free.
The love of Allah, a balm, a key,
Now, in His grace, my troubled heart has surged.


Remembrance of what's vital, pure release,
In His love, my soul finds lasting peace.
The lesson I learned in pursuit of importance, our hearts misled,
Messing the threads of truth, chasing illusions we bred.


If you inquire of true remembrance,
I'd share the extract—life's secret recipe.
Remembrance, a tapestry woven in the mind,
Threads of cherished moments, in our hearts entwined.

The sun shone down,
Red from smoke in the sky,
Yellow from dust hung in the air.

Then the storm came.

The sky went grey,
The trees blew bent,
Torrents beat the ground into mud.

Then the storm passed,

And the sun shone down
From a wind-cleared blue sky
Through air rinsed clean by the rain.