A word has settled upon my heart, with longing hopes to pass.
And the questions of the unseen, I dare not risk to ask.
But how far do I run from truth, when no sound calls my name?
And when I die my soul shall rise, and feel my life through shame.
The answers have no questions, for each night I wait for hope.
And the moments turn to years, yearning to grip Allah's true rope.
If knowledge does not find me, I'll sleep through tears in vain.
And search out o­ne to teach me, as my face these tears shall stain.

Taubah Abdul-Ba'eth

 In cares that seem too mild, and go in and out of the mind.
What cautions could be gathered, to heal the cause unkind?

The test of growth and loyalty, that show each past its truth.
Are better signs than hearts protecting all its bitter proof.

How much passion told in vain, could teach the hidden tears?
And treat the sacre of ancient past, like an enemies distant years?

Are all the tries proclaimed in faith, the teachers main concern?
Or does the hopes of forgetful dreams, injure tasks to learn?

Taubah Abdul-Ba'eth