Heavy are the words that roll off a grieving mother’s tongue,
like the black tar that seeps into a smoker’s lung.

Heavy are the hearts that bear the burden of sorrow,
like iron boulders weighing down shoulders until morrow.

Heavy are the minds that fight an invisible oppressive force,
like silent voices shouting until they become hoarse.

Heavy are the worries of a lost nation that walks blindly,
like three lonely mice that wander mindlessly.

Heavy is the sword that the Sword of Allah held,
like the weight of a thousand powerful men on their knees; all quelled.

Heavy is the desire to struggle for the sake of Allah,
like the force of the gushing water of heaven’s rivers that echo Jannah.

Heavy is the love we want to love and be loved by,
like the never ending pain of open wounds that only bring cries.

Heavy are the dreams of the orphans,
like the weight of the world and all of its fortunes.

Heavy are the presence of you and I,
like the gravitational force that confines our minds.

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