Hang us unto the air
Like wingless birds.
Tear our hearts into shards,
Still our faith we breathe and live on.
Let the dogs feed off our flesh.
Let the bird perch into our heads.
Let the rats lick our unblistered wounds.
Let your whips kiss our skin in delightful anguish.
Take your infantry weapons to battle Islam
Still tawhid triumph and gets the victory.
Not with our powers but for there is no
Power except Allah’s.
In the nakedly half moaning moon
You made Palestine tearful with the tear gas
That made ocean of blood. Syria, Gaza, Aleppo…
Have birthed Innocent dying souls.
The full mournful moon mocks
Your defeat as Islam never dies.
Let the moon old life bore infanticidal,
Still they raise the index of shahadah.
Woe to you monstrous beast!
You are all in pool of fears.
You fear that Islam will grow In souls and
Our heads like an erk horn.
You surely are engulfed in fears
As the ghost of faith still lives on.
This glory, victory is ours,
We fear you not for we survive.
But do you?
©Azeezah Olatunde (PenTalks)