Not for the eyes, nor for pity’s embrace,
Only the prayer mat witnesses his silent trace.
No complaints spoken, no despair unveiled,
Love remains pure, untouched by what’s assailed.
Silence is his armor, strength his quiet lore,
Let the whispers of prayer reach the heavens’ door.
The skies listen, though no sound is made,
Tears fall unseen, in the shadows they fade.
Every wound is stitched with patience divine,
Until the weight dissolves in destiny’s design.
A true man seeks no sympathy’s plea,
Only Allah soothes his heart’s decree.
With faith steadfast, he strides through strife,
Carving resilience in the trials of life.
Mas Bojreng
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