One dua left: Help me

This Ramadan feels different.

I can feel it in the quiet parts of me

the spaces where نور used to sit so gently,

now echoing,

as if something has been misplaced.

Maybe my sins have grown heavier,

weighing down every خطوة I try to take.

Maybe my wrongdoings have outnumbered my deeds,

like shadows stretching longer

at the end of a tired day.

Usually, Ramadan is where I rebuild

one small habit, one soft prayer,

one sincere tear at a time.

But this year…

the goal feels distant,

like something I can see

but cannot reach.

The road feels harsher now.

The turns, sharper than before.

And I find myself not walking

but crawling.

Slower than I ever imagined I would be.

Ten percent…

maybe that’s all I’ve done.

And even that feels uncertain.

Sometimes I stop

and ask,

Is this even the right path?

Or have I already lost my way, ya Allah?

I’ve lost count

how many times I’ve called Your name

not in long, perfect du‘a,

but in broken whispers,

in silent screams,

in moments where my chest feels too tight

to carry anything else.

Ya Allah…

there are no other cries left in me

except this:

Help me.

Help me find You again

in the darkness I created.

Help me walk,

even if I can only crawl.

Help me believe

that even this small, trembling effort

still matters.

Because even now

in this distance,

in this doubt,

in this weakness

I am still turning to You.