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boy of this world, Man of Heaven

There was a boy. His identity is irrelevant. He was a bright light in her world. Except he wasn’t so bright. For the thug life suited him better than a three piece. And that was his decision. That was his reflection to look at. He made her giggle and blush, but broke her heart, and that was what left the scar on her mind. That is what guided her after being blinded by lust.

Not love. That comes later.

Love is pure; it’s the people who make it poisonous.  I advised you with my heart. Directed you with words so eloquent, so touching, so simple, I wish I’d wrote it down just so I could show the world…show your mother how I tried to change the direction you was heading. Afterall, a mother cries the most over her children. Way more than I could ever cry over you. Any girl could. I told you what you could achieve what you could be, how you could find peace. I believed in your intellect but you chose to dumb yourself. That hazy atmosphere clouded your judgement and you chose the easy road. Coward.

And now life’s going backwards. Achievements are rare. Trouble is in your nature, it is the circle you keep. Change will come when it is chosen.

There is a man. He seeks knowledge. He lowers his gaze and his mind is clear. He knows his goals and knows success is in prayer. His friends are his fans and yet as humble as he. They’ve made their path easy but not by taking the easy route. He’s chasing a high. A higher heaven. His goal is the afterlife not this prison. Not a partner in crime nor a shadow in his, but two spectator’s in this world not settling for this. He taught her what love is, and they work together, for this world is simply a test to pass, to go to something better.

-A.K.A-

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Author:

Hi, my name's Aisha and I am 24 years of age. I'm passionate about writing poetry. Sometimes, I don't know how to convey my thoughts in normal conversation but I can spin off a poem about what I am feeling in 5 minutes. Or less. Writing is my thing. Like it is a lot of people's 'thing' and sometimes the only 'thing' that is a sufficient outlet to stop us all from going crazy. There's a lot of pain and anxiety in my poems, but often relief, which I find hard to convey but manage to slip it in at the end with a reference from the Quran or a hadith. If you feel you recognise this same emotional attachment to words, then feel free to read my blog and do not hesitate to contact me, comment and subscribe! Peace, Aisha -a.K.a-

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