At these dark times when we have gathered at the funeral of our humanity, the only remedy for any hope is in the Beloved of God –
I know not a candy
More sweeter than you
I know not a treasure
More precious than you
I know not a star
More brighter than you
I know not a wine
More intoxicating than you
I know not a beauty
More alluring than you
I know not a rose
More fragrant than you
My eyes:
And what eyes are they
If you haven’t appeared
So far in its lens?
My life:
And what life is it
If it hasn’t met you
At its final end?
My soul
And what soul is it
If it hasn’t tasted
Your drink of al-Kawsar?
You are the Sun
Paradise’ bliss its mere light
Only Lord knows the mystery
Of Meem and this love-story
This tale shall forever
Remain shamefully incomplete
Even if I scribble my madness
While alive, in the grave and beyond
These lines are rather
My heart’s medicine:
To cure the burns of love
To preserve my sanity
To soften my throbbing heart
To console my weeping soul
Deceived by the Tech-messiahs
Looted by the greed-prophets
We have gathered at the funeral
Of our oppressed humanity
As honor and truth are in strife
Greed and envy remain earth-rife
Let us then march to Beloved Meem
The source and end of life
13th June 2003. Edit March 2022
POEM GRAPHIC
One comment
Subhanallah… Divinity radiates through your words, Sir. I am humbled to read it.