We Wither Like Grass



Vain is someone who hasn’t witnessed any form of  miracles,

day by day, creations unfold in artistic and mysterious manners.

Can you see? Can you tell?

Can you feel what’s in your field?


This month is different and the same,

many lives have already been forgotten,

many souls have passed to heaven,

many children were born in communion,

while their parents were in isolation,

many hearts have been entangled by anxiety,

while minds followed codes of conformity and formality,

many people have perished away,

they wither like grass and hay.

Where can a future be found in an uncertain world of “indefinite”?

Hasn’t “indefinite” always been around since we were born innocent?

we gradually transitioned away from reverent and some to malevolent

where do we turn our faces and our hearts benevolent?

which direction would bring oneness of love and mercy?

we look upon the One that never dies, never perishes and never sleeps, no fallacy,

we are pleased with your judgment, we are your sheep,

a shepherd always lead the flock home,

home indeed where we belong,

in your presence,

on earth, so as in heaven.


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