Tomorrow

You know, I am so tired. I am exhausted beyond comprehension. Countless a sleepless night there has been, where I have been abandoned upon my pillow to ponder this tyrannous cycle. Underneath closed lids, brushstrokes of fiery red singe my eyes. I am waiting for blue. Calm and peaceful. I am waiting, tomorrow.

Too many have I seen, talk. And too few act. Too many type and forget. Too few etch and remember. Too many apologize for all the wrong reasons. Too few stand proud, and humble.  I am waiting for those who do. I am waiting, tomorrow.

You see, I apologize if none of this makes sense to you. But I’ve been meaning to articulate these restless emotions tugging upon my finger tips, yet I keep finding myself driving against an excruciatingly painful thing. A wall. For every inch I scale, this rut slams back upon me, sending me reeling into the endless ditch of darkness, and fiery red. Why does it make the upholding of truth so difficult?

It is  as though some of us have been screaming through this deafening roar of falsehood, and deception,and to know, now, the sickening fact, that no one hears our calls, but those who scream with us.

I am waiting for the day, NO, not when they hear, but when there is no need for them to hear. I am waiting for salvation from these angry brushstrokes of red, in the unjust portrait of our current humanity. I am waiting for blue, calm and peaceful. I am waiting, tomorrow.

When he said, ” We are only working for tomorrow.”, I was in state of denial. There was no way that I could accept that all that good that we did may not even come in to fruition in my lifetime. That maybe my weary eyes, tired from their weeping, would never witness the brush of this world, dipping itself into blue; gently quenching the thirst of this battered canvas with the peace it so longed for.

But you know what, I am alive. I am awake. I am strong. I am proud. I am Muslim, and I am waiting, longingly waiting, for tomorrow.

But as for today, I will step outside and smile. I still have neighbors who leave flowers at my door. I have the best parents in the entire universe. My friends are priceless gems. I am an eager seeker of knowledge, an apprentice to the ways of the world. I have been blessed with health and passion, and life. And most of all I have been blessed to be a servant of the Most High.

So today, I will smile. This does not mean that I do not weep tears of grief, in seclusion. This does not mean I will encase myself in my whims, and  attempt to forget about the war, depicted in that painting. This does not mean that I will not suffer wounds that should not heal, as bind that ones that spill blood. Yes, they should, and will never heal.

Once upon a time, I realized that there were two battles being fought in this world. One of suffering, and one of ease. And contrary to what the world has deluded us into believing, those who have suffered the most, with life, homes, children, status, wealth; have already won. As for those who have been given the test of ease, I feel we are failing. And yet we see ourselves victorious.

I am waiting. For. Tomorrow.

{I sincerely ask Allah, to aid any of us who are going through any form or shape of hardship. From all walks of life, religion, race, nationality, background.I ask Him to help all of us that are being discriminated against, or always seem to battling fabrications, in any sense. May He ease all our anxieties, and allow us to always be advocates of Truth and Peace, for we, brethren in Humanity, are all longingly awaiting that blue brushstroke. Ameen.}

 

P.S. I honestly do NOT know what just happened up there…

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