Alone… a stranger in an unfamiliar place
Alone… seeking Allah’s face

Filtering the sound of its meaningless noise
Clearing ground of its filth, like a farmer on his tilth
No mat, no cap, no robe or respect
Only adorned by sincerity, hope, and regret

No witness to testify whether my intentions are true
My Witness and Judge are both only You

The self-satisfied sleep, the liars creep,
The empty of soul drink deep draughts of denial,
The lovers live and die by light of the moon,
While seekers of Your face in Your grace swoon

In her wiles are many men caught
Spending the entirety of their lives on naught
Unable to keep any of what they bought
Only increasing their inheritor’s lot

Ya Allah, I can see past her smiles
I have felt the treachery of her touch
And now with a sorrowful soul
Empty like the beggar’s bowl, save for my tears
Towards The Most-Near I rush
An empty canvas awaiting The Master’s Brush

Allaaahhhh~ Allaaahhhh~ Allaaahhh~ Allaaahhh!

You are The First and The Last
The Inner and The Outer
The Owner of The Day of Reckoning
Your slave stands ready to respond to Your beckoning

Though my flesh is false
The drum of my heartbeats is true
As its rhythmic mantra shatters my soul
“Allah-Hu! Allah-hu!”

Overlook these scars – for my soul is flawed
Accept the prostration of this seeker – who is over-awed
Unable to move or speak in the presence of his God

I beseech you: The Source of All Hope
Give me the strength to hold on to Your Rope
And never let go; my every inner thought You know
These morsels of food are your gifts, this air your generosity
The Grantor of Livelihood and the Creator of Life
More loyal and dear than mother, father, child, and wife

Though the devil may have thought me beat
Thought me victim to the darkness in which I lie
My faith knows no defeat – as “Allah” rings in my every heart-beat
And my light cannot be stolen – so long as you are Al-Rahman

Every second millions are circumambulating Your House
As every second Your remembrance circulates in my blood
The road ahead is broken and my vision poor – I pray at Your door
With the remembrance of a Prophet You saved from the flood

Cover me with the cloak of Your Closeness
Warm me with the cloak of my master Muhammad
Shelter me from the cold of hidden kufr
And grant Your Beloved’s ummah victory over the kafireen

Though lonely without home,
I remain loyal to Only One.
Though a wayfarer I roam,
I seek refuge in He Who Is Alone.