Wednesday, November 4, 2009

how they wish

Its never a destination. Its a journey. and dakwah is never a destination..
walk your talk my dear.

One morn before me were three figures seen,
With bowed necks, and joined hands, side-faced;
And one behind the other stepp'd serene,
In placid sandals, and in white robes graced;
They pass'd, like figures on a marble urn
When shifted round to see the other side;
They came again, as, when the urn once more
Is shifted round, the first seen shades return

people is like a moon..n thats why life is an open secret..
to be continued..

No comments:

Post a Comment