Aaina dekh apna sa munh le ke reh gaye

He saw his face, and all his boasting died; How great the foolish pride he held inside was.

Don't raise your hand against the one who came; The error in the message mine to claim was.

In fever's grip, the threshold seemed a distant shore; A tiny desert stretched across the floor was.

Alas, the careless gaze of love, so blind and poor; Each stone, a fragment from the heart of Toor was.

The heart that teaches lightning now to flame, "The Patient One" was once its given name was.

Asad, consumed by waiting's restless, burning might, A moth before the flame of sacred light was.

Perhaps it died, on seeing your cheek so bright; The cup of last night's moon, so full of light was.

For those you slay, a waiting paradise is sure; The dark design upon your blade, a houri's dark allure was.