This Man..

This man, who once roamed Arabian lands
Who toiled through the harsh desert sands
This man, who delivered the message of monothesim
To a people who followed corrupt polythesim

To worship only One Lord, with no partner and not any other
To believe in the Day of Judgement and live in peace with one another
To fear God and not create hatred with your sister or brother
To love humanity and to revere your father and mother

Some would listen and obey while others would desecrate
This beautiful message sent from above Heaven's gate
He suffered much and lost his beloved mother
At the tender age of 6--and before birth, his father

He had no siblings, for he was an only child
Despite his hardships, he often sweetly smiled
Orphaned at a young age, he adopted the world
In return for his love, at him, hate was hurled

He tended all creatures with love and care
He treated all people kindly and fair
He advised the ummah
And taught it the sunnah

Who is this man? This man I speak of
Who else can be so full of such genorousity and love?
Who was stoned and abused for us?
Yet never uttered a word of fuss?

It is none but the mercy sent to all of the worlds, Human and Jinn
The one who lead us into the light and took us out of the darkness we were in
Mohammed, the son of Abdellaah, the best of all creations
The Trustworthy, the Truthful, the master of all nations

Salla Allahu Alayhi wa Ala Aalehi Wa Sahbihi Wa Sallam

History's Repetition

Wounded, bleeding
Crying and pleading

Woes of the battle pains
Waiting for the peaceful rains

To wash away the remnants of lost fights
And clear up the miserable sites

Stained by the blood of men, unknowing
Of why this war was still ongoing

No use would it bring
And no anthem would they sing

But the "Anthem for Doomed Youth"
Written by Owen, the soldier poet who realised the truth


This poem is inspired by Alfred Owen's "Anthem for Doomed Youth"

A Polar World

Bismillah

Looking behind my back one day
When all seemed fine and okay

I found the world in shambles, crying a desperate call
The rain hits the ground and harder it would fall

The skies were crying, beyond my reach, people were dying
Souls were flying as their bodies were lying

The screams are unheard and the silence profound
Promises of new hopes and dreams are carelessly thrown around

What is a word without action--one that would save the soul
Of the ummah that is quiet, its voice gone with the rising death toll

Extravagance is making us poor, but the poor are taking our riches
Seems like a contradiction but think again--an increase of akhirah and lack of duniya enriches

That is, in another realm that we haven't yet entered...
But for now, we are a nation not centered--

On the meaning of Tawhid, Unification--
Which means not only the Oneness of God, but the Oneness of our nation

The nation that is Earth, for we are all the Sons of Adam, Daughters of Eve
And the one message that was sent us to make our hearts at ease...

Is now forgotten...And see the world continue in its mischief as we sit in our chairs...
Tending our earthly cares...

There are those who live in mansions, who own huge sums of unused wealth
And in the same world, millions suffer in cold dungeons, deprived of good health

Desensitised, not flinching, sleeping well at night
Looking behind my back, I see this hideous sight

What a polar world, I think to myself
Where 5% of the population controls 95% of the nations wealth

In a world of disgusting polarity
There is no suprise it suffers such calamity

But one mustnt forget: This world is a test and only for a limited time
All of this will be forgotten, and a lovely eternity is to follow if you listen to The Sublime

A world of polarity can be neutralised by a garden of jannah in the mind
Of a servant who is good to himself and to others, kind...

She's like a bird..

She's like a bird
With broken wings
She's the scorpion
That stings
She's the harp
That has no strings
She cries the notes
As she sings
She took off the Green
And Golden rings
From her hand to the river--
Expecting better things
She walks with eloquence
And the mystery she brings
She's the envy of all the world's Queens
And a proud slave to the King of all Kings

Quatrain 1..

No air blown through a flute
Nor strings strung on a lute
Can match the miraculous musical art
Composed by the valves of your heart...

Quatrain 0..

In the words of the Almighty I see grace,
Love, hope, compassion, and mercy
The thought of seeing His Majestic Face
Makes the mind wonder as you read Ayatul Kursi..

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