Oh heart, why cling to shadows past,
To deeds undone, to hopes that passed?
Regret, a thorn that pierces deep,
A restless ache, a loss we keep.
The tongue withheld, the chance now gone,
The fleeting light replaced by dawn.
Yet mercy waits for those who strive,
To cleanse their hearts, to rise, alive.
Oh Allah, forgive my errs and pain,
Restore my soul, remove the stain.
For in repentance lies the key,
To find Your mercy and decree.
About the Creator
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The Dryads are Calling
They say the forest by Phoenix River sings. Perhaps it is just the wind howling through the leaves, or a particular birdsong. But Percy Fisher knows better; he knows what lies in those woods, and he knows that the forest sings of his demise.
By Leigh Hooperabout 23 hours ago in Fiction
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