A real friend wishes his companions well,
He's not one who allows them to get close to hell,
Always be careful of the friends you Choose,
So, in the end, Jannah you will not lose,
If you find your companion is not stopping your wrong,
then, be weary, his friendship is not strong.
If you see the pattern made,
that when you are under your friend's shade,
Your Imaan begins to fade,
Leave the worthless creation,
make friends with Allah, Surely that is a high station!.
A dervish who had knowledge of our present situation,
Once told his students the following dictation,
"The meeting of people will never enrich you,
save with the gibberish of useless gossip.
So diminish your meeting with people,
except for knowledge or to improve your condition"
by Imran Ibn Zarkhan Al Shafi
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Monday, October 21, 2013
The Tears Never Did Stop
I set my foot inside the Holy Mosque,
Upon the cold, white marble, Where day and night, People
sat worshipping, praying,
The tears never did stop.
Right and left, the Mosque being cleaned,
Shining, not a particle of dust, The carvings of marble, the plates of gold,
The symmetry of the whole Mosque, the largest of it all,
The tears never did stop.
Then came the grandest of the whole,
The center of one's life and concerns, The big, Beautiful House of Allah,
Covered with black cloth and gold leaf writing,
The tears never did stop.
My life flashed past me, the good and the bad,
such a feeling I had never felt before,
A special bondage to the Almighty-A sudden chill in me,
The tears never did stop.
Looking around, the large floor was filled with people,
Circling the beautiful house, loudly chanting,
People sitting, praying for forgiveness,
Praying for another chance to lead a better life,
The tears never did stop.
Taking a deep breath, I entered the never ending crowd,
With my heart pouring out all the prayers I could think of,
Begging for forgiveness of my sins,
Praying to become a better individual
The tears never did stop.
I ran around the black house,
The ancient, black house built by Ibrahim (AS) centuries ago,
Where not one second passes when people are not circling it, praying,
The tears never did stop.
I got closer as did my heart, mind and soul,
I touched the sacred house, hands trembling,
Knowing I was as close as ever to the Almighty,
The tears never did stop.
It was amazing, everyone centered their attention only on worship
All worldly concerns forgotten, focused on praying,
Forgetting everyday matters and happenings,
The tears never did stop.
The rituals were tiring, took strength and time,
But what is a few hours for our Giver, Our Creator?
For what He has given us, the worldly goods, the luxuries,
A few hours of forgiveness for our sins,
The tears never did stop.
Author Unknown
Upon the cold, white marble, Where day and night, People
sat worshipping, praying,
The tears never did stop.
Right and left, the Mosque being cleaned,
Shining, not a particle of dust, The carvings of marble, the plates of gold,
The symmetry of the whole Mosque, the largest of it all,
The tears never did stop.
Then came the grandest of the whole,
The center of one's life and concerns, The big, Beautiful House of Allah,
Covered with black cloth and gold leaf writing,
The tears never did stop.
My life flashed past me, the good and the bad,
such a feeling I had never felt before,
A special bondage to the Almighty-A sudden chill in me,
The tears never did stop.
Looking around, the large floor was filled with people,
Circling the beautiful house, loudly chanting,
People sitting, praying for forgiveness,
Praying for another chance to lead a better life,
The tears never did stop.
Taking a deep breath, I entered the never ending crowd,
With my heart pouring out all the prayers I could think of,
Begging for forgiveness of my sins,
Praying to become a better individual
The tears never did stop.
I ran around the black house,
The ancient, black house built by Ibrahim (AS) centuries ago,
Where not one second passes when people are not circling it, praying,
The tears never did stop.
I got closer as did my heart, mind and soul,
I touched the sacred house, hands trembling,
Knowing I was as close as ever to the Almighty,
The tears never did stop.
It was amazing, everyone centered their attention only on worship
All worldly concerns forgotten, focused on praying,
Forgetting everyday matters and happenings,
The tears never did stop.
The rituals were tiring, took strength and time,
But what is a few hours for our Giver, Our Creator?
For what He has given us, the worldly goods, the luxuries,
A few hours of forgiveness for our sins,
The tears never did stop.
Author Unknown
Labels:
Allah
Wednesday, October 09, 2013
Final Ritual
Disastrous storm of suffering has broken loose,
Unsettling black fog disrupted her misery stage,
Its glorious air cursed into depressing stale,
Sadistic play continued as certain as fate,
Theatrical of distress was each day relive,
Portrayed hardness of heart as virulent plague,
Pride and honor disfigured and unspeakably disgraced,
Virile soul once but ailed and wretched,
Guilt got overthrown while fear diminished,
Stream of tears kept her sedative consoled,
As seductive whisper of end eagerly awaited,
That night death freed she who sinned,
Satan has won again as Angels wept,
Burning gates of hell slammed entirely shut.
By AyaMikail
Unsettling black fog disrupted her misery stage,
Its glorious air cursed into depressing stale,
Sadistic play continued as certain as fate,
Theatrical of distress was each day relive,
Portrayed hardness of heart as virulent plague,
Pride and honor disfigured and unspeakably disgraced,
Virile soul once but ailed and wretched,
Guilt got overthrown while fear diminished,
Stream of tears kept her sedative consoled,
As seductive whisper of end eagerly awaited,
That night death freed she who sinned,
Satan has won again as Angels wept,
Burning gates of hell slammed entirely shut.
By AyaMikail
Labels:
Death
Saturday, October 05, 2013
All That Glitters is not Gold
All that glitters is not gold
So many times I had been told
Yet I ignored this simple advice
And fell in love with my demise
Glittering bright you enraptured me
The rest I could and would not see
Gilded gold were truly you
All fake and not true
An embodiment of my dreams
In every aspect to me it seemed
A treasure to hold close to my heart
Which one day you would tear apart
But like all lies yours didn’t last
The truth revealed- cruel and fast
And then I realised to what I was blind
An ore of impurities yet to be refined
Lacking the value of true gold
For an expensive price you had been sold
Money cannot value my loss
For my very soul you had cost
But a valuable lesson I was taught
Gold should never ever be sought
For all that glitters is not gold
I learnt once my heart was sold.
Masumah
So many times I had been told
Yet I ignored this simple advice
And fell in love with my demise
Glittering bright you enraptured me
The rest I could and would not see
Gilded gold were truly you
All fake and not true
An embodiment of my dreams
In every aspect to me it seemed
A treasure to hold close to my heart
Which one day you would tear apart
But like all lies yours didn’t last
The truth revealed- cruel and fast
And then I realised to what I was blind
An ore of impurities yet to be refined
Lacking the value of true gold
For an expensive price you had been sold
Money cannot value my loss
For my very soul you had cost
But a valuable lesson I was taught
Gold should never ever be sought
For all that glitters is not gold
I learnt once my heart was sold.
Masumah
Labels:
World
Thursday, October 03, 2013
The Veil
Ignored, left and abandoned by association
Seen as a germ, convicted of the sin of abandoning assimilation
The veil of hers, not combined with tight jeans or cute ditsy little shirts,
With an attitude that says no to flirtation--not wanting attention, even if it hurts
A person of that type and especially a female
Is not well liked, for many believe that she should be on sale
For all to see,
bought cheap as eyecandy
They say its freedom to dress as if there's a shortage on cotton,
And its apparently fine for everyone to look at her bottom
But when a girl wants to cover up and respect herself and her deen, they call her oppressed--
Sling at her names, give odd looks and try to make her depressed
Nonetheless, she's patient, persevering, and not succumbing to their jargon,
For the duniya is a prison to the believer and to the kafir, a garden...
Seen as a germ, convicted of the sin of abandoning assimilation
The veil of hers, not combined with tight jeans or cute ditsy little shirts,
With an attitude that says no to flirtation--not wanting attention, even if it hurts
A person of that type and especially a female
Is not well liked, for many believe that she should be on sale
For all to see,
bought cheap as eyecandy
They say its freedom to dress as if there's a shortage on cotton,
And its apparently fine for everyone to look at her bottom
But when a girl wants to cover up and respect herself and her deen, they call her oppressed--
Sling at her names, give odd looks and try to make her depressed
Nonetheless, she's patient, persevering, and not succumbing to their jargon,
For the duniya is a prison to the believer and to the kafir, a garden...
Labels:
Women
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