A Cry from a Weary Heart

“Even if no one stays, You do. O Allah, never leave me to myself—not even for a moment.”

There are days when I feel like I’m breathing but not really living. My body walks through the world, but my heart drags behind—tired, fragile, and in need of something deeper than rest. No amount of sleep, comfort, or conversation soothes this kind of weariness. It’s not a physical exhaustion—it's a soul that’s searching, aching, yearning. And in the middle of all that silence, there is a whisper that never leaves: Return to Allah.

O my Lord, soften my heart.
Make it gentle, not hardened by this world. I don't want a heart that holds on to grudges, pride, or darkness. I want a heart that trembles at the sound of Your name. A heart that opens up in the middle of the night just to speak to You. You are Al-Wadud—the Most Loving. If I have Your love, I need nothing else. This world, with all its glitter and distraction, fades when Your mercy fills my soul.

O You who love when I return,
How often I have walked away—chasing things that never filled me, hoping in people who never understood me. Yet, every time I come back, You are there, waiting. Not with anger. Not with rejection. But with open arms. You are At-Tawwab, the One who loves when I repent, over and over again. Make my return sincere, not just of words but of action. Purify my soul. Make my heart too small for arrogance, too big for humility.

Heal me, O Healer of hearts.
Wherever there is pain, known or hidden, pour Your Shifa over it. Whether it’s grief, fear, regret, or loneliness—only You know the full extent of my wounds. And only You can heal them. You are Ash-Shafi. Heal my body if it’s weak, my mind if it’s overwhelmed, and my heart if it’s broken.

Write me among the righteous.
Even if I feel unworthy, even if I fall short—still, let me walk the path of the righteous. Place my name among those who You love. Let my days be filled with halal, blessed rizq. Let my tongue flow with dhikr, and my heart beat with gratitude. Make my nights moments of divine intimacy, where I speak to You and cry in sujood, not out of despair, but out of love.

O Al-‘Aleem, the All-Knowing,
Grant me knowledge that brings me closer to You. Knowledge that helps me act, reflect, and grow. Keep me away from things that waste my time or numb my soul. Let me pursue what benefits both my Dunya and my Akhirah.

You know the cries I don’t speak.
You see the moments when I smile on the outside, but inside I’m struggling to breathe. You know when my heart feels too heavy to even make du’a. And still, You answer the prayers I don’t know how to ask. Let my tongue always be wet with Your remembrance. Guide my heart back to You, again and again.

Your mercy is my home.
I have no shelter but You. No refuge but Your mercy. Cover my sins with Your forgiveness. Wrap my heart in Your light. When people leave, let me find comfort in the truth that You never do. Don’t let me be left to myself—not for a blink of an eye.

O You who accept the broken,
Make me someone whose eyes overflow in sujood. Make me love You more than I fear the fire. Make me seek You more than I seek this world. If I have Your pleasure, I’ve gained everything. And if I lose it, nothing else matters.

This is not just a prayer—it’s a cry from a weary heart. A heart that is tired of this world but never tired of You.(Yaa rab)🤲