Who am I oh Allah.
I was once a frequent reader of Your book,
I never miss a juz' a day,
I left Your book so I have to dust it off and
before I finish one safhah, there I rushed for dunia yet again.
I was once a strong man who storm through the chill dawn of winter,
to greet You in Your house daily,
though You parked a few cars in front of my room,
I rarely use one to greet you in the morning like I used to do.
I was once holding halaqah reciting Your verses
admiring Your greatness,
I limit myself to just following one and to just be there,
so they won't think I left this road of da'wah.
I was once a surfer in the deep of the night,
I surf through my tears on the board of repentance,
I'm drowning in this bed of lies, suffocating in the coziness of the selimut in an air-conditioned room,
snuggle myself to deep sleep, thinking God have no wrath for me,
for I was once, a slave for Him.