Ya Allah, I am at the Edge

 Ya Allah… I’m at the edge.

Every breath feels like glass, every day another wound I have to swallow.

They say “be patient” — as if patience isn’t already strangling me.

They say “time heals” — as if time hasn’t been the knife all along.

I’m tired of carrying everyone’s weight while my own soul collapses.

I’m tired of screaming into the void, pretending my whispers are prayers.

I’m tired of rebuilding a life that keeps burning down before my hands.

If this is a test, I’m failing it.

If there’s a lesson, I can’t see it through the smoke.

Ya Allah, pull me out of this fire before it eats me whole.

I’m not kneeling in surrender — I’m kneeling because I have nothing left.

And yet, even here — bleeding, furious, exhausted — some ember still whispers Your name.

I am still reaching for You in the dark — and that alone is keeping me alive.