Counting Sha’baan Moons

The cup is full, can take no more,
And each new drop lets to the floor
The stains that show and slowly grow,
The cup is full, can take no more;

I know my tears can wash these stains,
If I could weep till none remains,
I need those nights, despair be gone,
All grief be lost when splash upon

Me mercy waves that wash the shores
Of dark rebellion once more;
Bring me those nights, despair be gone
With your angelic hum of dawn;

I dash my cup upon the floor,
And long for sips of Ramadan.

Post Categories: Poetry

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