Ramadan Resolution

My Ramadan last year was so well planned,
Bouncy was my start, downhearted was the end.

What did I do? Where did I go wrong?
I was sure that my iman was so strong.

Following the flow of the course of events,
Tailing my nafs, grabbing what it presents.

Little did I know, a rival lived within,
Preventing me from good, provoking me to sin.

Continue reading Ramadan Resolution

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My Lowly Aspirations

While driving my littlest one to school,
Looking out the window, I often wonder

What would one give to own a mansion?
Living in this land without tension

My thought puts me to shame and I realised
Have I ever craved for Jannah, the greatest prize?

Dreaming about this dunia so fake
Yearning to acquire it for pleasure’s sake.

Have I ever yearned for that which is free?
So treasured and rare as nothing could be.

Is This Your Love?

Hearts are veiled instead of our women,
Modern and liberated, fake titles given.
We hope to prosper while clinging to haram,
Letting it take over, like a mystical charm.
Oh Ummah is this your love for him?
Who guided you away from Hell’s fiery brim.

Music and dance are norms of the day,
Our Iman is frail and we let it sway.
Those who dare to think them wrong,
To this world they do not belong.
Oh Ummah is this your love for him?
Who guided you away from Hell’s fiery brim.

Continue reading Is This Your Love?

While Being Massacred

Surrounded by smoke our skies are grey,
Living our life in utter dismay,
Faith only helps us through the raging day,
Though we are being slain in every way,
Brutally butchered and left to decay

Where are you O Muslims?
While we are being massacred.

Pools of innocent blood around us,
A tragic depiction of gloom and distress,
Wailing mothers, unable to suppress,
Weeping and crying is how they express,
Emotions so grave, beyond distress

Where are you O Muslims?
While we are being massacred.

Continue reading While Being Massacred

No one Would, None Other Except

Her frail legs carrying my growing load,
Facing hardships, yet such care she showed,
Despite being delicate and petite,
Always active and up on her feet.
Who can love me as my precious mother?
No one would, none other.

Indulgent hands work for hours on end,
On her gallant soul I can always depend.
Her eyes well up seeing me in pain,
My loss is her loss, my gain her gain.
Who can love me as my precious mother?
No one would, none other. Continue reading No one Would, None Other Except