Ash-Shams (الشمس‎‎, “The Sun”)


The believer and the Beloved
Are two extremes of the hemisphere
Losing track of sunrises and sunsets
They trade love and warmth for fear

The former sets afoot on a journey
The destination is never clear
But just as a lighthouse maps the ocean
Rest assured, refuge is always near

All paths are different waters
But tributaries to the same river
The latter is fixated
Confident that patience will deliver

Lovers from different stars
There is no compass guiding their way
Yet they map out constellations
Turning blacks and whites to grey


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