In Love’s Country, Language Doesn’t Have Its

Wisdom Is Like The Rain. Its Source Is Limitless, But It Comes Down According To The Season.

Do You Think I Know What I'm Doing? That For One Breath Or Half-breath I Belong To Myself? As Much As A Pen Knows What It's Writing, Or The Ball Can Guess Where It's Going Next.

Longing Is The Core Of Mystery. Longing Itself Brings The Cure. The Only Rule Is, Suffer The Pain. Your Desires Must Be Disciplined And What You Want To Happen In Time, Sacrificed.

When You Seek Love With All Your Heart, You Shall Find Its Echoes In The Universe.

You Rave About The Holy Place (masjid Al-haram) And Say You've Visited God's Garden But Where Is Your Bunch Of Flowers? There Is Some Merit In The Suffering You Have Endured But What A Pity You Have Not Discovered The Makkah Thats Inside