Tag Archives: healing

The battle of righteousness!

I sat on the ground
with my broken pieces
shattered around.
Blood was dripping from the sky
and Allah was watching me cry.
Tears were slowly streaming
and the winds were screaming.
The mountain I was trying to climb
to reach the heavens of desire and love
broke into pieces and I fell from above.

I hit myself so hard that I couldn’t feel my ache
was I that broken that it was impossible for me to break.
I was so alone that pain left me numb
I curled into a ball and waited for death to come
but it wasn’t death, pain, or light that found me all alone
it was an enemy who promised to bring me back home.

It was Satan who came to me wearing a vest of hope.
He sat by my side and gently held my hand,
“I’ve come to help you rise because I know no one will understand.”

The devil gave me his word and made me sit upright
the world is too selfish my love it doesn’t deserve your light.

“Come, we’re both fallen angels what do you say
hold my hand and we’ll make everyone pay.
The world does not deserve your mercy let’s tear everything apart
I will burn down the world just tell me where to start.
These so called people, they aren’t your friends
life is unfair so let’s make amends.
You took the right route, yet you lost the game
people have walked over you, so you do the same.
You were pushed down and no one came to your aid
It’s your time now, so take this blade.
Do what you want so you could go higher
burn down everything and do what you desire.
Victory won’t come to you
you’ll have to snatch it from someone else at every turn
let’s be partners and we’ll watch the world burn.
What’s a little hell compared to the hell you’re going through?
come to the dark side, let’s see what you can do.”

The words sounded so good.
Maybe I shouldn’t.
Maybe I should. “Do it,” a voice had echoed
“Don’t you dare,” another had said.
The battle I was fighting was taking place in my head.

There were bombs and explosions taking place within
and there was no one I could tell
people would say I was a sinner
and they would threaten me with hell.
How could I rise when I was drowning in myself
everyone threw judgments but no one would come and help.

Maybe he was right
if I was in darkness why should someone else be in light.
I didn’t understand.
what was the point of being righteous and just
if everyone else in the world was filled with hate and lust.
Everyone around me was living in a beautiful lie
if everyone was cheating then why shouldn’t I.
It was my turn to take
I was tired of giving
why did I have to be a saint
when everyone else was sinning.

“Because,” my Lord said.
“I made you different don’t be like the rest.
Ruining a life is easy but giving hope is hard
take the easier path and you’ll lose who you are.
I made you a leader yet you’re giving in to another voice
you were kind and just, because it was your choice.
Not because you had to prove anything to the people around
you can’t sink the world just because you’re about to drown.
The world can do whatever it wants
but don’t let it corrupt your response.
You’re brave, how can you let a fall dictate your way.
Iblees doesn’t care, he just wants to rip you apart
this crusade you’re fighting is taking place in your heart.
Being good has nothing to do with getting something in return
you, my aching soul of clay have so much to learn.
I know you’re confused and so badly torn
but this fall of yours is giving you another chance to be reborn.”

Smiling my Rab said, “I’m the one who pushed you
and this you should’ve known.
If I created you
do you really think I would leave you all alone.”

Poetry Book: Curing My Venom

Comfort of a ghost

I’m sitting on the wooden benches, in Astoria Blvd, waiting for the Manhattan-bound N train. It’s so cold outside that vapor comes out of my mouth every time I take a breath. The tips of my fingers are frozen, and I blow into them every five minutes to keep them warm.

It’s snowing and raining at the same time. My shoes are wet, and I can feel my cold socks cling to my skin, but I can’t feel my toes. The coldness rattles up to my ankles and it’s slowly clawing up to my calf.

For a moment I stare at the rusty, old tracks and there’s a voice in the back of my head, telling me to jump on them as soon as the train comes, but the voice fades away beneath the stress of tomorrow.

I try to focus on the long walk home. It’s getting dark and because of the slippery roads, the buses will take forever. I’ll get home faster if I jog. I don’t have an umbrella, maybe I can buy one on the way, but I don’t have cash; I forgot my wallet at home. The thought makes me curse myself, and the harsh voice in my head scolds me for being careless.

I lean back and divert my attention to the Tri-borough bridge. The cars passing beneath the train station, with their colorful red and white lights, vanish in the fog and reappear close to the blue bridge; but all I can see are blurry outlines and flickering lights.

The day didn’t go well; not like the other days are any different. But today it felt like someone was suffocating me. Like someone had lowered the pressure of the oxygen in the air. Like something heavy was sitting on my chest. Nothing went well. I failed two of my classes, and I won’t be graduating on time. The thought doesn’t bother me, what bothers me is having to explain all this to my dad. What will I tell him? His hopes are bounded to me and my siblings, and my failing is like stabbing him in the chest. Things at home aren’t well either. My parents have issues of their own. It’s like I’m forced into these two wars and ironically, I’m losing both of them. I’m at that point, where everything feels like a burden. No matter how much effort I put into something, I always fail, and I’m tired of failing. I’m tired of trying. Tired of just existing.

I’m in pain, and it’s the type of pain that can’t be explained. That can’t be put into words; no matter what language I use.

The train comes after half an hour, and the walk home isn’t as long as I imagine it to be. Maybe because I run half the way, splashing water all over my clothes.

At home, no one asks me any questions, and I am grateful. Everyone is too occupied with their own issues, that my little problem seems like a minor inconvenience. My blotchy cheeks and stuffy nose are the result of the rain- that’s what everyone thinks, and I don’t correct them. I could easily break down but besides “get over it”, “have faith,” or “I’ve been through worse,” I won’t get any other form of comfort.

I change my clothes and go straight to bed. I have an English paper and a lab report due, but I don’t care. Nothing seems important. My mind is messed up, and I’ll probably break down crying. I just want to sleep. But as soon as I close my eyes, tears as big as raindrops cascade down my cheeks. Searing pain is ripping through my chest and it hurts so bad that I can’t put it into words. I’m wheezing, and I can’t seem to breathe. I want to yank my heart out of my chest and squeeze it until it explodes. A throbbing headache spills through my skull, and I find myself questioning God.

But as soon as I close my eyes. Hands as soft as feathers touch my forehead, and I feel an odd, unexplainable warmth spread through my body. Like someone has wrapped me around in a nice tepid blanket. Like all the negative thoughts in my mind are caged behind bars of tranquility.

“It’ll all be okay,” a voice as warm as the sun whispers into my earlobe and I can feel the warmth of someone’s breath. The voice reverberates in my mind, and I find myself repeating those same words.

For a moment there’s comfort. A one I’ve never felt before, but as soon as I open my eyes there’s no one around me, but I feel like I’m being watched. Like someone, invisible is hovering over my head. I’m too tired to think. Too tired to comprehend.

I close my eyes, and I feel someone massaging my scalp. Someone is sitting next to me on the bed and is whispering “everything is going to be okay.” And for some odd reason, I believe that voice. I feel an odd ecstasy take a hold of my body, easing every cell rushing through my veins. It doesn’t take long for me to fall into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Photo by Syed Hasan Mehdi from Pexels

But I am not God!

But I am not God!

I know, but you can be the answer
to someone else’s call
you can be the net
to someone else’s fall.

You can be the shade
to someone else’s rain
and you can be the salve
to someone else’s pain.

You don’t need to be a superhero
to wipe away a tear
you can be the courage
to someone else’s fear.

Look my love
in a world where you can be anything
I ask you to be strong
put down your ego
and for once be the melody
to someone else’s song.

I know you don’t have powers
but you must save yourself too
because only then will you help
someone else get through
you don’t need to be powerful
to help another soul
but if you can
then I ask you to be someone else’s cure.

Be kind, my love
Poetry book coming soon…
‘Curing My Venom’

Photo by A.R. T from Pexels

You will never be like her…

She’s a garden of solace
with roses as sweet as honey
but you will never be like her.

She’s the ecstasy of desire
with blind intoxication
but you will never be like her.

She’s the warm breeze
among harsh winds of winter
but you will never be like her.

She has the treasures of knowledge
the mind of a genius
but you will never be like her.

She has the perfect lips
that warriors would fight for
but you will never be like her.

She is the brightness of the sun
casting rays of hope
but you will never be like her.

She has the confidence
of a thousand knights- ready for war
but you will never be like her.

She’s an image of perfection.
A wish. A want.
But you will never be like her.
Never.
Ever.

Look in the mirror
and you will see a worn-out dream
layered in residues of storms and gales
you’ll see a monster with skin
as old as time
and hair as wrenched
as the erupting volcanoes
you will see wounds smothered in darkness
and smiles as fake as blackened hearts.

Darling
you are not her
and you will never be.

She is the crescent moon
and you are a blemish.
She is the purity of the ocean
and you are a stain.

But love, It is okay.
It is alright. You don’t need to compare
your rays to someone else’s light.

Your imperfections are making you stronger.
But what I don’t understand
is that in a world where you can be anything
why would you want to be her?

Photo by Chait Goli from Pexels