Some men manipulate her and use her for greed, Kill in her name, but her name comes from peace, So I stand by her pillars proud, she keeps me grounded. Reminds me to be humble; through her are all the answers, To every question even worth asking, And to love her, you must be able to love all human beings. They deserve to hear her words and learn of her teachings.
She represents what’s within, all my sisters and brothers, Practiced by my kin, and praised by my mother, A gift from Allah, sent from way up above. She is Islam, And I am in love
"After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul, and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t mean security, and you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises, and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child, and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much. So plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure…that you really are strong, and you really do have worth."
I love hands like I love people, they’re the maps and compasses in which we navigate our way through life, some people read palms to tell your future, but I read hands to tell your past, each scar marks the story worth telling, each callused palm, each cracked knuckle is a missed punch or years in a factory