Our Islam’s Body

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The body of Islam is always suffering in pain

Allah tells us to endure and we will gain

Our tears falling endlessly red like the autumn rain

Do we deserve pain because we love?

What is his plan up above?

Yet, we are weak, like only one little white dove

A dove surrounded by black eyed cursed crows

From every direction the push and shove

So this bird, fighting undefeatable foes

Her tear flows

When one true Muslim dies, inside, a true Muslim knows

She tries to fly free into the cloudy blue sky

Crows won’t allow it. Trapped she lets out a cry, “why?!”

That is heard by the most high

If Islam was to be lost and to die

We will be in Jannah, with relief, and the eternal sigh

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