Pricked with struggles
and in my path cast thorns
Tore my wilting petals
and hurled upon me a storm
Till my heart withered
tendering in pain
and my mind weeped
flooded with rain
From my broken soul
tug out the weeds
Shower it with mercy
and plant therin a seed
Allowing me to flourish
and bloom with your grace
So beautiful shoots
emerge and interlace
Oh you sweet syrian angel,
Your status in paradise is so very high so wipe that crimson mingled teardrop leaking from your eye.
Oh you poor palestinian babe,
They stabbed you deep in the heart tearing loved ones away from you,
Don’t despair as you are amongst the special few.
Oh you abandoned afghan child,
You wander aimlessly seeking dark corners to hide,
Feel lonely not for Allah is surely by your side.
Pearls amidst pebbles, you are treasures so dear to your Lord.
peaceloveanunity 