A BROKEN ROSE….

بِسْــــــــــــــــــمِ اﷲِالرَّحْمَنِ اارَّحِيم

The Rose That Grew From Concrete

Has Sharp Thorns Now….

Tho’ No Longer A Baby

She Still Smells As Sweet

A Rose-Bud Has Blossomed

Into A Lovely Bouquet

Around Which Her CARETAKER,

ALLAH IN THE DIVINE PERSON

OF MASTER FARD MUHAMMAD,

TO WHOM PRAISES ARE DUE FOREVER,

HAS BUILT A STURDY FENCE….

– ONLY ONE HAS THE COURAGE AND THE INCLINATION

TO TACKLE THE WALL AROUND HER.

LIKE SLEEPING BEAUTY’S PRINCE,

HE STORMS IT WITH DETERMINATION –

ALL-THE-WHILE, NEW PETALS CONTINUE TO FORM

BRIMMING WITH CONFIDENCE THAT ONLY COMES

WITH THE KNOWLEDGE OF SELF.

HER AROMA AND INTELLECT COMBINE TO BEGUILE HIM

BOTH GROWING STRONGER AS THEY AGE…

SO APPEALING….

THE HUMMING BIRDS & THE BEES DRINK HUNGRILY

FROM HER CONVERSATION.

SHE VALUES THEIR ADMIRATION.

WITH MORNING COMES

FRESH DEW, SUNSHINE AND ANTICIPATION.

TODAY MY PRINCE WILL COME….

WITH HIS LIQUID SWORD,

HIS SHIELD

& SUIT OF ARMOUR

EVER-READY

TO PLUCK AND PROTECT ME!”

SO, SHE SPREADS HER LEAVES TO RECEIVE AND

WELCOME HIM TO HER CONCRETE JUNGLE.

– NEITHER UNAFRAID NOR INHIBITED BY HER THORNS

HE FERTILIZES THE CRACKS IN THE CEMENT

AROUND HER WITH THE HOPE THAT

SOMEDAY WILL ARRIVE AGAIN SOON,

BRINGING WITH IT NEW BEAUTY AND LIFE

TO THE DARK AND DESOLATE

METROPOLIS

WHERE ROSES SOMEHOW MANAGE

TO STILL FIND A WAY

TO GROW UP THROUGH CONCRETE….

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