Unfaithful

I've painted the memory of your coming with my crayons, and crossed out the path of your leaving. There's no one to dictate life to me, correct my mistakes, cross out my wrong days, and make me to write down my experiences ten times.

The geography of your being has covered the outline of the sea. The fish can't reach your whereabout, let alone I. whenever I put pen to paper, my pen point used to break. And now with the least remembrance of you, my heart breaks… come and swear by my life, that you will always stay by my side.

Affection garden

I don't know what to say to you, what to write to you. Which tribe of love are you from? Who are you that your voice turns my fall into spring, breaks the glassy silence of the night, and sings a lullaby to the stars till morning. This is the tone of your voice that makes my pen dance. With you, my thought overflows with goodness. Your voice releases the bird of my heart from the cage of sorrow, and makes it fly in your affection garden. Come…

My last hope…

Dear Mahdi! This night is your birthnight and the anniversary of my perplexity. What am I to do without you? If you weren't in my privacy, no doubt I would die. Sayyedi! How many times did you pass my heart's lane with your white horse, and I fell asleep besides the lane? I've fell a deep asleep, and don't hear your white horse neighing.

Whenever Friday comes, we all open our heart's doors.we clear our hearts; cause we are all waiting..we are all waiting for the Friday when we pray besides you. I'm waiting for the day when you bring my annoyance to an end, and unite the broken parts of my heart.

Ya Imam Al-Zaman, give my words also the ability to express my love with such fluency! Grant me also the power to speak of the real love that lays trapped inside. O' beloved! though wingless I may appear, I shall fly past the boundaries, like the migrating birds in the heart of sky, with your love flaming inside me !

A single teardrop, kindling a ray of hope . . .

Sayedi, may I be your ransom; only God knows how I fall onto my knees in prayer, pleading to just have a glance at your moonlit face. I wish to hold the pillar's of Jamkaran mosque and seek you, stand by Janat-al-Baqi and cry out for you. Alas, my Imam, fate turns the pages of my life bringing me ten steps closer to death. If Allah has destined that holy meeting to be held in the heaven, then I am packing my luggage and waiting anxiously to sing the last song of life. I then, would long to have the angel of death knock upon my door and seize me.

My Imam, you too have experienced how hard it is to 'wait', but if you have been waiting for so long, then probably I, who call myself your admirer may as well have to wait. I pray that this period of waiting helps purify me, and make me worthy of that Blessed meeting.

My Master, I have given my heart to you long before. My Dearest Imam, grace me with your presence, for the sake of your mother Al-Zahra (sa)!

Yet another sunset, sealing a week long prayer that I had dearly been wishing for ... a prayer, to be among the chosen few that you have planned to visit in the upcoming week. Allow me to speak with ease, by assuming that you are listening to my silent

My Imam, I have unknowingly commited many sins; sins that their mere existence makes me feel ashamed. Every Friday when you place your hand on my book of record, my heart stops beating; for I know that yet once again I have proven my self unworthy of being in your noble company. But still, O' Zahra's beloved Yousuf, it is the warmth of your love and the desire to meet you that provides strength to my frail body - had it not been for you, this majnun would have for long withered.

I have heard from my elders, that you bless your admirers by praying for their welfare and guidance. Sayedi, can I count my self among those fortunate few?

I have given my heart to you long before ... the first time that I heard your blessed name. So when you live in my heart, when your presence warms my soul, enlightens me, what more I can ask for, than to meet you, and kiss the soil on which you stand.

Yabn Al Zahra ... may I be sacrificed for you. when I was a child and would long for you, I would write my 'letter' and place it under my pillow. Now, that I have with me almost a collection of such little letters I wish to fly over to Samarra and place them by your father's holy shrine. Who can dispose tokens of true love?