The waning soul
The waning heart of a sick soul
The unfed soul kept hidden
The soul which lacks it's nourishment remains as if in death
He cannot move and has no say
He is left to deteriorate and decay
He wants to ignite the vigour and energy
But he cannot, chained and bound
By the dirt and filth of Nafs.
Nafs, a hateful and aggravating
A disease of the heart, soul and mind
Nafs, a whisper of infection
From words to defile
It causes a sickness virus
Which consumes and eats
Everything that is good within.
Nafs attacks Ruh
Nafs regurgitates Ruh
Nafs dismembers and hurts Ruh
Nafs kills Ruh.
Food of the soul
ALLAH HU ALLAH
A truly effortless choice
An inbuilt mechanism
Triggering will, instantly explode
A monsterous surge of healing power
Yielding a sword, Ruh kills Nafs
Wielding the banner of ALLAH HU ALLAH
For only this is the cure for all infections caused by Nafs
Only in this is the healing
And in only this is the power
ALLAH HU ALLAH HU ALLAH HU ALLAH!
Fill your house with food and love
Fill your heart that is,
For that is partly where the soul resides
From the mental to within.
That small ozone hole in the body
Must be sealed with the words,
Unlike the ozone hole in the sky,
which has no hope of help.
Imagine that then with your mind's eye
An oozing of the Earth's life force.
Indefinitely, but fast, this whole Earth will be destroyed
There will be no rejoice.
Hence I say , feed the waning soul
Before all life oozes from the leaking heart
And all hope is the past.
Lorraine Nur Shufiya

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