Oh, my fair lady,
I think you must know,
The path you will take,
will cause you much woe.

Oh, my fair lady,
don't go with him,
maybe just maybe,
he still loves her within.

Oh, my fair lady,
he did not see your worth,
he will come back,
as you were his first.

Oh, my fair lady,
beware of a man,
you may be so lonely,
confide in your friends.

Oh, my fair lady,
he may be the one,
he's taken you places,
you've never gone.

Oh, my fair lady,
prophecy fulfilled,
he confessed his feelings,
are you so weak-willed?

Oh, my fair lady,
you feel betrayed,
this is how stories,
of unfaithfulness are made.

Oh, my fair lady,
he offers his help,
maybe you  love him,
the feelings you felt.

Oh, my fair lady,
he's lead you astray,
seems like this time,
he came to stay.

Oh, my fair lady,
angel of his thoughts,
I pray he won't hurt you,
hope you have a plan,
one that's well thought.

Oh, my fair lady,
I think he loves you more,
you both are not the same,
as who you were before.

Thank you, my love,
I wish you were mine,
my heart longs for you,
alas, there's no time.

I wash your sins
within me

I heal
and nurture
them

not for you,
and one moment
on your long list.

I cleanse
your transgressions for me

and for her,

and our daughters
and their daughters.

In the
undercurrent of my
being,
I bathe my wound
and swim
and search

for a way
forward,

because what is
existence
if not time
pulling
us along?

-

I think
I was born into
this life
a healer.

To feel this shared
pain
and see its shadows

as if light, reflecting
and dancing
against a wall,
creating
constellations
of
heartache.

I see now
my purpose,

to connect with the
heavens unknown
from this

earth

so this wicked
energy may
leave
this

world.

And us.

To nourish each other,
so that we can choose
to transcend
pain

a human existence,
where love
and its triumphs,
and
deepest
darkest
of
pitfalls

coalesce
into this flesh
to
cross both space and time
to make
generations.

This flesh,
that I now wear
proudly,
albeit
timidly
at times.

This paradox,
I want
for her too.

The Ummah is sweltering with the heat of sins and immodesty.
When will it transfer into an oasis of humanity?
When will there be a loving bond like one between the Ansaar and Muhajireen?
When shall shamelessness be shunned away?

Alone he sits,
in the field,
waiting for the birds to migrate,
from an eternal winter,
he hears their song no longer,
except when she smiles,
only when she's around,
does the sun fulfill its duties,
warms him,
for he is cold from the rain.

Why do you love the dark?
and run from the sun,
it does not make you shine any less.

I wish you were a full moon,
can I see all of you?
So that I can show you all of my love.

Why do you say I shouldn't wait,
You always come back,
in pursuit of the sun,
I wonder,
when will I be your sun again,
you promised,
it will be night again,
I can bask in your light once more,
when no one is around,
and the rain makes me feel,
show me your blood,
show me your love,
it's all the same,
you shine,
whether you acknowledge the sun or not.

when do you think of me?
because i am haunted by you;
every time i step into the shower,
soaked in reminders to scrub behind my ears.
'dont forget to', you used to say.
no, even now i never forget to-
i scrub in remorse,
burdened by anger,
plagued by betrayal,
unclean even after my skin
is rubbed raw,
clung onto by your sins;
somehow, i am not allowed to forget you.

drenched, i can only ask your memory:
'when do you think of me?'
because i hope it is never,
just as much as i hope it is
a very hellish, 'always'.

How can I love you?;
                                       Teach me.
But I leave you;
                            im back.
                    Now
In the water,
you are  swimming with me,
                                                    where?
Dr­owning beneath the waves;
                                                        I beg
                              Water
I am dying from thirst.

The noise of the river,
tells tales of love,
he says it's fake,
like all things of the heart,
but there is truth in his lies,
and lies reveal the truth,
he hurt those he loves,
love is a beautiful thing,
but is death's disciple,
he thanks her for the feelings,
and the memories,
but hates her,
for they are only memories.

The noise of the river,
tells stories of lust,
he says it is a welcome enemy,
for it tempts him,
lust is of love but love is whole without it,
the stories are accounts of dreams,
for lust does not love him,
not anymore,
he is chasing after her,
looking to atone for his war crimes,
in the battle of love,
his hidden wounds **** him slowly,
he dreams a happy nightmare.

The noise of the river,
preaches about salvation,
his says his old friend awaits him,
loves master,
he wishes to see me too,
he gives an account,
of our beautiful evil that awaits,
I stand up,
my distorted reflection,
portrays me clearly,
but not at all,
I smile,
                           pure
a low life does not deserve this,
**** it all
as I shake his hand
and plunge into the river.

The feel of the river,
reveals true sorrow,
I envy the river,
for he has a plan,
had a purpose,
I failed,
so they all left,
they are upstream,
smiling,
I wish to take their smiles away,
as I let the river take me,
I lost my way,
the river is all I know,
he will help me achieve my dream,
of unleashing beautiful carnage.

The noise of the river,
and myself,
we are one,
                                        we always were,
I understand you now,
my friend,
you taught me about hate,
this world is just to spite you,
I hate it too,
you hate me now,
because we share a conscience,
not for long,
now I am the welcome enemy,
the river still flows,
with all its trash.