Consumed, over the shoulder discarded
Buried in humble dust, trampled and retarded
Out of sight, out of mind
Non-existent, if defined
Deep in dirt, sunk underground
Alone, darkness does surround
Nourished by soil and earth,
Reflections and contemplations are given birth
Steadfastness and patience begin to grow
Wisdom and experience in abundance do flow
Spread far and wide the sky is reached
Providing fruit and shade, a parable is breached
Where are the discarders, where are the trampling feet
scratching their heads in bitter defeat
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The above poem was written by a young man currently going through a testing time. My interpretation of his words is as follows: It is a "parable" of a man (the author I would assume) gaining "nourishment" (developing as a person in many unimaginable ways) from the very plots and plans of those intending to defeat, "discard" and "trample" him. The closing two lines are a taunt to the "discarders" and "trampling feet" to let them know that his spirit has not been broken, not in the least.
May Allah alleviate his burden, pour forth upon him patience and make him firm in the face of difficulty.
The Warning Bell
ReplyDeleteFreedom, a thing of the mind.
Towards worldly life, the wise are not inclined
To Allah (swt) is the return, from He we came
Life has purpose, it is not a game.
The angel of death will deal the blow
The soul shall shake, and death will flow
Shriek you will a silent cry:
"Woe to me, Where am I?"
A voice will sound, "You are no more!"
"This here is surely the after-world.
Warned you not, this day would come,
To Allah's decree you must succumb!"
Panic and remorse will take control
Fear and terror, like never before
Regret you will, your worldly life
Fun and games, joys and strife
Heaven or Hell, time will tell
But, rang I have The Warning Bell