The Srangled Road

I waved my hand, lost in the shifting sand, Where hope is a ghost I cannot feel. But the Almighty looks down upon me; He grants me courage, To turn this shadow into reality. Almighty, the Messiah of this Dunya, I follow Him, a silent devotee. Though He does not touch, nor does He talk, I feel Him as my Savior, my God, A Father, and a Deity. The world: a weave of truth and lies, Testing the heart of the humanitarian. He, who carves a path through the strangled road, Walks toward a final gate: Jannat, the garden of purity, or Jahannam, the fire of the sinner.