Us and Them
Out of the oceans of their virtues,
my pen's ink only drops a few.
Only a fleeting glimpse
of the Sahabah's greatness is in this poem to view.
Abbaad bin Bishr was getting shot with arrows,
yet he still didn't want to break his salat.
Who are we compared to him?
We complain when the room we pray in is a little hot.
Our Masaajid are empty,
even though we drive fancy Cadillacs.
The Sahabah went to the Masjid for every prayer,
even though many had no cloths on their backs.
The Kuffar put massive rocks
on Bilal's chest in the burning dessert sun,
All he said was "Ahad, Ahad"
and from Islam he did not run.
They strove in the path of Allah,
doing Jihad even in the fierce dessert heat.
Who are we compared to them?
We can hardly make it to the Masjid right down the street!
Sumayyah loved Allah
and for that the kuffar speared her most private part.
She was the first shaheed of our ummah,
to the end she had true love of Allah in her heart.
Who are we next to Sumayyah?
We hide our faith in fear of being teased.
We get a little laugh from a kaffer,
and we turn away from Allah displeased.
Khabbab bin Alarat was burnt on hot coals until his blood put out the heat.
How ashamed should we be?
While listening to a khutbah,
we find it hard to just stay on our seats.
Most of them were starving,
but this didn't keep them away from any part of the deen.
We have tons of rice and lamb,
but nonetheless, in us, Islam can hardly be seen.
Mus'ab Ibn Umair's hands were both severed when he was the flag bearer,
yet with his bloody forearms, he still kept the flag up high.
Yet how is our condition?
We can barely even give dawwah because we feel too shy!
If even the breeze grew a little stronger,
they would go to the Masjid fearing that it may be the last day.
Do we even notice what's going on around us,
or are we too busy thinking of our weekly pay?
Abu Bakr gave all of his wealth
for Allah in His path.
Though if we were asked to do this,
we would probably laugh.
Out of their fear of Allah,
they had tear stains on their cheeks.
Out of our love of the dunyah,
we stay away from the Masjid and go shopping in the boutiques.
After being captured in Jihad,
Ibn Hudhafah was glad that he might be boiled alive.
Yet what about us?
For Allah, many just frown when they are asked to strive.
This noble man cried in pleasure
that he might be boiled alive for Allah!
Next to him we seem like hypocrites, or worse,
many of us don't even do our salah!
Even when Umar was khalifah,
his clothes still had many tears.
Yet when we have even the littlest job,
we end up with many clothes that we don't even wear.
They established the empire of Islam,
they spread the deen throughout all the lands.
Yet when it comes to us,
we have trouble obeying the simplest of Allah's commands.
Aisha was thirsty for knowledge,
she was one of our greatest scholars.
She was busy searching for wisdom,
yet we're busy searching for dollars.
With it's last drops of ink,
this poem is coming to an end.
But before I let you go,
there is one thing that I do recommend:
We can sit around and talk,
we can reminisce about them with much ease.
But unless we actually try to be like the Sahabah,
our words just drift away with the breeze.