About Damn Time (for a proper update)
« Beloved old stranger, what have you become? »
Grew wild as a vine, bearing many a plum.
Updates and milestones are daunting for some,
So make it as seamless and soft as a hum.
In order to get you on page with the book
Of my story, allow me to lead with a hook.
By God, will you need nothing more than a look
To promptly admit me phenomenal cook.
If you listen to regular trimming, well-chorused,
Delighted, you’ll know I gave birth to a forest —
Naming each of the seeds like a true allegorist,
But they’re Bonsaï, and little, so close to a florist.
If you notice a toddler in cheekiest pose,
So too little brother, his milkbottle close —
Imad and Haroun, the tightest of bros,
The eldest with Auntie, Haroun dimly glows.
And as every skill is a work still in progress,
Mercy when you see that my trials are all mess.
Watercolor is harder than foreseen to process,
But I try and have hope that myself I’ll impress.
If you see ginger figure dash straight through the room,
Hard not to get sad with Saff’s memory loom.
But it's Rory, Red King, having fits of the « zoom » —
He is rizq and cheer, orange Blossom in bloom.
If you wonder about what I do for an income,
I’d count many a story, all crazy and random.
Maybe got that degree, made the proudest my mum —
And have vowed righteousness to give way more than some.
If you stumble upon my loose words on a wall…
They are mere an attempt to prevent from appall.
The site is just « words » - in Arabian Khôl —
And Ilayk is the title, my one truth of All.
What could have allowed for all this to come true?
The prayers of an Auntie, a Sister, of you —
Warming hearts of the frozen, the lost in the blue…
And when finally ready, then Faith simply grew.