Misbaha
The once crimson beads
Were a string of hopefulness
Through anxious fingers.
Incoherent prayers
Are muttered softly inside,
What He only knows.
The words transcended
And the worries are dispersed
Throughout His divine lands.
Were a string of hopefulness
Through anxious fingers.
Incoherent prayers
Are muttered softly inside,
What He only knows.
The words transcended
And the worries are dispersed
Throughout His divine lands.