Current Series

Explore SyLLA's current series, the Quran through Art

The Dua of Zakaria (AS)

قَالَ رَبِّ إِنِّى وَهَنَ ٱلْعَظْمُ مِنِّى وَٱشْتَعَلَ ٱلرَّأْسُ شَيْبًۭا وَلَمْ أَكُنۢ بِدُعَآئِكَ رَبِّ شَقِيًّۭا (٤) وَإِنِّى خِفْتُ ٱلْمَوَٰلِىَ مِن وَرَآءِى وَكَانَتِ ٱمْرَأَتِى عَاقِرًۭا فَهَبْ لِى مِن لَّدُنكَ وَلِيًّۭا (٥) يَرِثُنِى وَيَرِثُ مِنْ ءَالِ يَعْقُوبَ ۖ وَٱجْعَلْهُ رَبِّ رَضِيًّۭا

My Lord! Surely my bones have become brittle, and grey hair has spread across my head, but I have never been disappointed in my prayer to You, my Lord! And I am concerned about ˹the faith of˺ my relatives after me, since my wife is barren. So grant me, by Your grace, an heir, who will inherit ˹prophethood˺ from me and the family of Jacob, and make him, O Lord, pleasing ˹to You˺!”

This painting is a visual journey into the most powerful form of conversation a human being can have: Du’a.

It was born from my own moments of spiritual struggle — the kind that drive you inward, to your knees, to your Lord. In that darkness, I found the towering example of Prophet Zakaria (AS). When the righteous are overwhelmed, they do not despair in silence, nor do they complain to the creation — they turn, completely, to the Creator. I painted these hands reaching upward to remind myself of that truth: that Zakaria, in his old age, with a barren wife and no human reason for hope, was granted a son. A Prophet. A miracle. Because he asked the only One who could say Be — and it is.

Nothing is impossible when you carry your deepest hurt to the All-Loving, the All-Mighty.

This piece is more than art. It is a sincere, daily anchor of hope — painted to live in the spaces where you need it most. Every time you pass it, it calls your hands upward. Every time you feel the weight of waiting, it whispers that your miracle is not late — it is on its way.

It is a visual promise: your yearning is heard. Your Zakaria moment is possible

The Dawn of Mercy

وَالضُّحَىٰ وَاللَّيْلِ إِذَا سَجَىٰ مَا وَدَّعَكَ رَبُّكَ وَمَا قَلَىٰ

By the morning brightness — your Lord has not forsaken you, nor does He hate you." — Surah Ad-Dhuha 93:1–3

This painting was born from one of the darkest times in my life.

I was failing the standard I had set for myself. IT felt extremely lonely. In that despair I turned to Tahajjud and to Surah Ad-Dhuha.

وَالضُّحَىٰ وَاللَّيْلِ إِذَا سَجَىٰ مَا وَدَّعَكَ رَبُّكَ وَمَا قَلَىٰ "

By the morning brightness, and by the night when it grows still — your Lord has not forsaken you, nor does He hate you." — Surah Ad-Dhuha 93:1–3

These words were revealed to the Prophet ﷺ during a period of silence — when the revelation had paused and his enemies were saying Allah had abandoned him. And then the dawn broke. And Allah said: I have not left you.

Mosquée de la divinité

وَأَن لَّيْسَ لِلْإِنسَـٰنِ إِلَّا مَا سَعَىٰ ٣٩

And that there is not for man except that [good] for which he strives Surah An-Najm (53:39)

This painting is a pursuit of a feeling I experienced during an evening in Dakar, Senegal. While heading toward a mosque for Maghrib prayer, the sight of the sun setting behind its silhouette was an unexpected treasure—a fleeting moment of profound peace that no photograph could ever capture.

The effort to translate this spiritual awe onto canvas was long and meticulous, but the result was that much sweeter. This work is a visual testament to the guiding principle found in Surah An-Najm (53:39): "that man will only have what he has worked towards." It is a reminder that the greatest rewards, both spiritual and artistic, are born from earnest effort and dedication.

Masjid An Nabawi

I painted this piece as an anchor for my own soul. It began in a moment of overwhelming longing, a sincere yearning to be back in that blessed city where the Prophet (ﷺ) lived and built. The oil, brush, and canvas became my way of holding onto the unmatched peace of Madinah, helping me remember what it feels like to be there—the emotions, the stillness, the clear devotion. When the world outside gets loud, this canvas is the gem I pull out of the ocean of memory to remind me of where my heart truly rests.

This painting is intended to be a piece of that very peace brought into your home. It’s for the Muslim who knows the feeling of that sacred city and desires a constant, sincere reminder to center their focus.

Older works

Explore the full collection of Sylla's oil paintings