Call me back to reality, my love.
My heads are in dark clouds,
and my thoughts are a thunderstorm,
rumbling oh so distantly.
Good things grow as long as they are watered,
And I water them regularly from the coolness of my grey eyes.
Although I am silently in pieces, I come back down to Earth so you are at peace.
He will weather my storm, and we will both stand the test of time, your shores, calm, and my rocks, smooth.
Zainab is a convert of Islam since 2019. She loves to learn more about her beautiful religion, question people, spend time with her family, and sometimes write.