Wednesday, 8 August 2012


Short/cute , not terribly well written poem to all those itikaafers (not an actaul word) out there

Yes they are camping in the mosque
They are living on Quran
Their foreheads touch the dust
The hearts that sink in fear and hope
Rise higher on that day y'know
The dates are halved and the plates are cleared
The soul alive finally aware
They stoke the fire of guidance
That shines the light to fajr time
On the back of men, of monks , of knights
They left the world with sheer delight
To grab on to burning coals
That shed the sins like God knows
The flowing tears soak the beards
On dusk of the final day
Those righteous men
That guard their darkness and the night
With the Lord they have found respite
Yes on day ten dusk
They would have finished
Camping in the mosque

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