Poetry

“Hope”

Never lose hope.

One day,
everything you've been praying for
will find its way to you.

Every dream
will become a beautiful reality.

Every unanswered question
will finally make sense.

And the person meant for you

will be waiting
at the gates of the home
you once only dared to dream of.

So, hold on a little longer.

Some blessings
take time to arrive,

but they are always
worth the wait.

I think I’ll spend most of my life trying to transliterate my soul into words, knowing full well that something essential will always be lost along the way.

The strange thing is that words are all we have.

Most people won’t read them. Some will. Fewer will understand them. And even those who do will carry away a version of what I meant rather than what I felt.

Perhaps that is the quiet tragedy of being human. We spend our lives translating ourselves into a language that can never quite hold us, hoping someone else’s heart will reconstruct what ours was trying to say.

Maybe that’s why misunderstanding hurts so much. Not because people disagree with us, but because they never quite meet the person we were trying to introduce.

And still I write.

Not because I expect perfect understanding, but because silence has never been fluent enough to speak for my soul.

“ hayati how can i make myself look beautiful when all i see in mirrors is you. “

• -B.A.D.

“ i love my imagination because it always brings me back to us. “

• -B.A.D.

“ this summer came and is leaving.
I came & will never leave”

• -B.A.D.

Hayati,
I cant take you out of me,
You live inside my eyes,
And deep inside my heart & soul too.
Hayati,
I have never held you even once,
But yet you dont know what my soul keeps hidden for you.
Hayati ,
Anna bihibik.
Anna Mush’tac ili,… shwe shwe. 🐻❤️
Akhid?

• -B.A.D.

“A man that genuinely wants to be with you will naturally care for you,… everyone else just wants to experience you. “

• -B.A.D.

Ar-Raḥman
Every time I search for words, they return to me carrying the same Name: Ar-Raḥman.
A child finds comfort, an orphan finds hope, a sinner finds the door still open. Behind every mercy I have ever known, I glimpse only a sign of Ar-Raḥman.
Morning arrives without asking us to deserve it. The rain falls without asking who is worthy. The earth carries us, even after all we have taken from it. How many mercies pass through our hands before we remember Ar-Raḥman?
I have counted my shortcomings, yet I could never count His mercy. I have forgotten Him more times than I can remember, yet He never ceased being Ar-Raḥman.
If every ocean became ink and every leaf became a page, my words would still fall silent before the majesty of Ar-Raḥman.
Perhaps that is the closest a heart can come to praise: not believing it has spoken enough, but knowing it never will, because every word reaches its limit, while the mercy of Ar-Raḥman never does.

Even Love Needs Balance !!!

I once killed a plant by watering it too much.

That’s when I learned that even good intentions, when given in excess, can sometimes do more harm than good.

Care, love, attention, and concern are beautiful things but balance matters too.

In a constant stream of endless thought, I clung to a log, hopeless and lost.

Lost my breath to the current's pull, felt a hand grip my arm, warm despite the cost.

Unconscious, I coughed, spat what I'd caught, turned to the one who held a fire so hot.

The warmth felt cozy, or so I thought, meeting a gaze so frivolous, yet raw.

We struck a conversation, laughed and mused, I thought I'd found the peace I'd long pursued.

But logs don't float forever, however amused — the current returned, gentler, but it moved.

I let go, not because the fire had cooled, but rivers carry you where they're inclined to.

Still I recall the raw in eyes that ruled the second I stopped drowning long enough to breathe through.