Helplessness,
Sheer helplessness,
Those moments of great disappointment,
Empty pocket,
Stuffed mind,
Stuffed with various desires,
The more they strike, the less they are met,
It turns bad when we are the centre of every hope,
God is also the centre of all hopes,
But there is a difference,
He is nothing to do with our joy and sorrow,
He rewards them whom he wishes,
His treasure is great,
It never reduces,
But we have trifle given by Him,
And still we are the centre of many hopes,
We are clasped in the cruel jaws of destiny
Whom He controls with all His might,
Come what may, We will get only what we are destined to,
Whether we live or not.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nice thoughts, Mohammed. I really like the honesty in this work. Yeah, we do feel our work is double difficult than that of the Almighty. The problem is that we are 'there' but He doesn't seem to be 'there'. Great work.