Odd Nights

She is taking the midnight train heading to
A destination unknown
Dark bricks silently pass her
Nobody cares for those underground
Those who spend the night wandering
Aimlessly through self constructed tunnels

The scene is from a black and white film
She is young , biting lips and fighting
A battle against the tears
Through the void it is hard
To make lifelong friends who
Leave at the next stop
Everything is empty her eyes fixated
So her mind won't ask

It is easy to get off
This is my stop they say so flippantly
But it is harder , much harder to tell the world
I'm on the wrong train and I've been on it for far too long
Pushing past commuters so caught up they hardly budge
To pry open the doors and
Jump because it is as you whisper before
The fall 'this is the wrong train'

Odd nights come after
The rush hour , they come
When staring at the silver moon you
Realise that you were wrong and
You are scared because the Conductors voice
Lifts from the back of the cabin
'It's the end of the line folks'

They said, "Our Lord, we have wronged ourselves, and if You do not forgive us and have mercy upon us, we will surely be among the losers."
Surah Al A'araf
Verse 23

Assuming the Good

I’m delusional
Or so I am told. 

I’m off my head and just plain loopy .
This year has been too much for this heart
The amalgamation of hope and sorrow
Never painted a pretty picture .
So here I am, crazy cat lady lacking any cats. 

There were potholes even I wouldn’t deny that.
I thought they were mended ,
By your cement and tears from my eyes.
I knew we would fall gracelessly from time to time
I thought we would learn and pick ourselves up again.
It is not that I don’t see the issue
Rather that I see it on a completely different scale .
Insignificant compared to the good , the potential and the duas
Non existent when faced by night time prayers of forgiveness on your behalf . 
Perhaps or most likely it is true
But I won’t let it define you.
Who would have thought that optimism stings ?
You keep digging out the dirt
And helplessly I keep filling it in. 

It ruptures the earth and breaks the bones
That unremitting expanse of sin.

Abu Huraira reported Allah's Apostle (may peace be upon him) as saying:
The servant (who conceals) the faults of others in this world, Allah would conceal his faults on the Day of Resurrection.Muslim Book 32 Hadith 6267 

Imam Bayhaqi in his Shu`ab al-Iman [7.522]. 
 He (Hamdun al qassar) said (Allah have mercy on him), 
"If a friend among your friends errs, make seventy excuses for them. If your hearts are unable to do this, then know that the shortcoming is in your own selves"

Submission

I have run
to the edges of my soul
and burnt the tips of my fingers
Ironing shirts.
Yes, I have run
to destinations unknown
just to feel the wind blow
into the empty chambers
of this worn heart.
The layers of dust and memories.
Indiscernible prison.
I run from the futures I had envisioned
I loathe the reluctant steps
That refuse to run with me.
This heart rejects lies and force fed closure.
Truth overwhelming.
I run no longer.
I have fallen.

“Surely those who are with your Lord (angels) are never too proud to perform acts of worship to Him, but they glorify His Praise and prostrate before Him.”
[al-A’raaf 7:206]

 “And unto Allaah (Alone) falls in prostration whoever is in the heavens and the earth, willingly or unwillingly, and so do their shadows in the mornings and in the afternoons.”
[al-Ra’d 13:15]

All things are plausible...

Please feel free to comment. Suggestions and constructive criticism is all welcome. I pray that one day that writing about Allah and this beautiful religion will become second nature to me and the words will roll quickly and eloquently off the tongue. I have come this far by the will of Allah . I never thought I'd get here but I have and now I put my trust in Allah to take me further .Al hamdulilah I have hope for a better tomorrow not only for myself but for all my beloved sisters too.  I dedicate this poem to that, for lack of a better word, awesome sister I see everyday, you have truly inspired me.

All things are plausible

I trace the lines on my hand
Dead ends and alleyways
journeying to a destination unknown
 deep, dark and unmissable 

They tell the tale of a worn soul

Of pashminas with holes

And night time sujood
some more frolicsome, swirl

To music unheard

Playing the tune of small talk
Intoxicated by your own desires

These lines fade dizzily

All of them drawn
in black Biro pen, by her
you’re being delusional

Assume the good; you think
Lines remind you of unexpected destinations
with no other explanation, except
the pen of destiny and fate

My heart too fragile

But yet I believe that sinners will repent

That the unseen good

Within people is greater than me

So I dream
of my sister holding this rope tight with me

The moral of my own story is
I never lost faith in God
so to this tender heart it seems
He didn’t lose faith in me

NB: Palm reading is haram. I just read this over and wanted to clarify that I in no way encourage palm reading it is haram. By lines on my hands I mean doodles. 

To be Forgiven

Allah's Messenger (peace be upon him) said: My example and your example is that of a person who lit the fire and insects and moths began to fall in it and he would be making efforts to take them out, and I am going to hold you back from fire, but you are slipping from my hand.

 Sahih Muslim Hadith Narrated by Jabir ibn Abdullah

It has dawned on you the magnitude of choices made, while blinded by foolish love. Attempts to patch up broken beginnings fail. Your parents have moved from, disbelief, disgust, disappointment to eventual hatred. They wish to love you but it is written in their eyes that they can’t. That haphazard bubble has burst leaving tear soaked pillows and chocolate wrappers in its path. The heart is raw with the pain of loss. You cling desperately to what is wrong for it is all you have ever known by then. 

            It has been a decade, trying to piece together the echoes of ancient advice. No matter how hard you try it is not the same. You look back trying to ascertain where did it all go wrong. Perhaps through the hazy memories of what seemed like love you will remember the little people in your life. The insignificant people you waved goodbye to so readily. Lying awake at night muttering profanities under your breath. You knew, you must have known the thought reverberates in your mind. So why, why did you let this happen to me. At that moment our short lived past becomes salt in open wounds. You feel something of hate at the negligence, the sheer disregard by which you were left.
            Let me tell you in all honesty I tried, miserably. The stubbornness by which you clung to the sin shocked me and in hindsight it probably shocks you. I had to watch you slip through incapable fingers into perpetual doom. I called you with every voice I ever knew until it hurt too much to speak. I am sorry.

             And so tonight as you lay crying tears of guilt and remorse know that ten years prior I too cried the very same tears. I stared at upturned palms in the darkness thinking what have I done. And I found eventual solace knowing God answers the prayers of those who are patient; I pray that you will too.