Where Is Rest?
Today’s pain drags my heart so low, I can feel it being scraped, burning from the salt on the icy road as I walk. It’s so indescribable when it erupts, that a part of me can’t help but wish for death instead as I talk. Were it not for others hopes and the responsibility to them and their love, along with my own guilt, I would have easily let go of life a while ago. I really wish I could.
What passion for your beloved is this Bashir, burning in the soul
Crying from a hundred languages silently “Is there yet more?”
When the soil grinds my bones to a dusted sigh
The passion of my soul won’t diminish an atom’s worth
So go ahead - open up the grave after I die
See how smoke from the fire of my heart rises above the dirt
Like a steaming torrent boiling itself to pure essence
It’s from الله
