So powerful is this memory,
Keeping you so close to me,
My heart flees to you in a hurry,
Struggling I am to keep it steady.
She's not mine! She's not mine!
What is she doing in my mind?
I shall not cross that Divine line,
I'll stand waiting, tortured by time.
O Allah, my heart is aching!
Pounding on the bars it's kept in,
The leash is nothing but a string,
Hands are bloody but still holding.
You know how much I want to let go,
Unleash this flesh to the one it misses so,
But this heart of mine I worship not, no!
I bow to the One who turns it - my Lord!
-a poem of aiman azlan
means a lot