It brings the whispers

SHARE

SHAFAQNA – The following poem was penned by Reza John Vedadi, MA in Film Production & MA in Islamic Studies, film and documentary director, producer and writer based in London.


As the night descends
It brings the whispers.

Let my heart be the ink
And my lips the pen.

Let me write to my Beloved
Of all the pain.

The best Judge the Beloved maybe
For sure no judgement will I see.

As the ink flows and the stories begin
My Beloved listens and forgives my sin.

As the candle burns out and the darkness surrounds
The silence is overwhelming and there is no more sounds.

My Beloved, I call
No reply comes to my soul.

Please reply my Beloved, I have nowhere else to go
The candle has died and ended the glow.

When my eyes are closed and the heart is empty of hope
My Beloved sends down his Rope.

Hold steadfast to this Rope of mine
For eventually all will be fine.

You do not need to go far to find me
For I am always near you and my time is free.

Remember me in your sadness and joy
For I have created the heavens for you to enjoy.

Hold on to the Rope I have sent
For eventually all will return and repent.

I will accept you no matter how far you stray
But don’t ever give up the way.

The time remaining is very short
Don’t waste it and come back for comfort.

For if you forget time and blink your eyes
You will be with me to receive your prize in no time.

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here