For warning me about the disease of pride
And making me embarrassed like a bride
For making my life in order
And sharing the responsibility over my shoulder
For showing the joy of life
And bringing a smile to my world of strife
For convincing me Allah will never hurt
And removing from my heart the arrogant dirt
For giving me unbearable pain
As a teacher beats with a cane
For deserting me in this sad hour
And going from me very far
For pulling me away from this world
And pushing me towards the Loving Lord.
O His Gift! Are you in my hands to stay
Or for Him to take quickly away?
Ah! Now that the Gift with me is no more
Let me praise the Lord crying on the floor
January 18th, 2003.