Running on Empty

The plague

Idle?

Empty?

Free?

The blank screen flickers,

Amidst the purring of the machine,

As he sits and ponders,

Of how unpredictable life can be,

Reminiscing the past

Reflecting the times

How it flies so fast

Just yesterday he was perched

Unflinching, hours on end

Browsing through his files

Immersed in his notes

Self inflicted exile

Time has since stood still

And in a state of depression

He begins to lose his will

Ya Rabb

Cure him from this plague

That darkens the heart

Bringing him further apart

Cleanse this diseased soul

From the trappings

Of this worthless world

Open his drooping eyes

Engulfed in slumber

Oblivious to it all

Strengthen his grip

On the sword of truth

Solidify his stance

Remove his doubts

Oh Allah...