Whispers of the Heart

Help Me See

I don't talk to you anymore.

Have I been caught up in the webs of life?

Have I started to be like Karl Marx- too materialistic that it destroyed his humanity?

Have I started to lose you?

Because, hell no, I'm not prepared to feel that.

I want you, Allah.

I want no one else.

I don't want a husband, a child if I'm away from you.

I don't want a family if I feel so far, so alien.

Have I done something wrong?

I worry too much, it seems.

But, I feel as if you are a distant dream.

As if I keep pondering about my dream, but you just seem so blurry, so difficult to spot.

I hope I haven't started to taint my soul.

For it has only begun to understand you.

I think I'll have to pull a few measures, because I know I'm really lazy and careless when I want to be.

Maybe then, after constant meditation, will I reach out to you.

And I think it has to be regular.

Not erratic.

Does everything depend on my mood?

Gosh, it seems the case.

Sometimes, it feels as if you're helping some one else at the moment, so it's almost like an answering machine.

But most of the times, I think it's because of me.

And I know there can be so many reasons.

No use mulling over them.

I can try.

Definitely.

Like in the movies.

Reaching out.

I can, right?

Because the spark has long been extinguished.

And because these embers need to turn into flames.