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Humble Poet Jan 3
In moonlit mosques and
sunlit naves, two whispers met,
He, cross upon his palm,
she, crescent on her neck.

A Christian boy, a Muslim girl,
their eyes ablaze,
Love bloomed unseen,
a secret rose in thorny maze.

He spoke of hymns,
of stained glass grace,
of angels' flight,
She whispered tales
of prophets kind,
beneath the desert's night.

His faith a whispered prayer,
her faith a fervent call,
Two tapestries distinct,
yet bound by love's enthrall.

Stolen moments carved from dusk,
by shadowed walls they'd stand,
His hand, a whispered comfort,
hers, a flame within his hand.

Prayers of longing mingled soft,
in languages untold,
Love's silent symphony
defied the faith of old.

But whispers turn to echoes,
secrets etched in sand,
Families with furrowed brows,
pronouncements cold and grand.

"Forbidden threads," they hissed,
"unweave this tapestry of sin!"
Love's fragile bloom must wither,
by hate's cruel wind blown in.

He, torn between the chalice
and the Kaaba's call,
She, bound by ancient scripts,
her heart a tethered thrall.

Their names, like prayers
unspoken, hang upon the air,
A haunting testament to love,
denied and held in snare.

But though walls may rise
and edicts fall,
in hearts a flame remains,
A ember whispering defiance,
through tears and burning pains.

For love like theirs, a phoenix,
from ashes takes its flight,
Soaring beyond the reach of dogma,
bathed in eternal light.

Perhaps in some faraway realm,
where faiths no longer clash,
Their souls will weave anew,
a love unbound by creed or sash.

And in the tapestry of time,
their whispers softly chime,
A hymn of hope,
a testament to love,
defying tide and time.

Romeo and Juliet got off easy.
Safana Dec 2023
Friday, a day, and today.
Which day is best for Friday?
A Muslim's day and the best day
It is a white and beautiful day.
A Muslim's day and worship day
A gathering day and a Muslim's day
A day for good whishing, a Friday.
A praying day for worldly peace.
It is a beautiful, white day.
We beseech Allah to deal with the oppressors in this world and to bring us peace.
Yousra Amatullah Mar 2022
I fell in love
With His words, His promises, His ways

And I fell, hard
Into sujood

The day I had fallen in love
With Death
Yousra Amatullah Nov 2021
Like an autumn tree
Let us absorb reality
Starting at the roots
Until our branches rain mastery

Reflect upon us like the sun does
Enlighten my trunk, my fiber
Sweeten the fruits of my leaves
Only to match the touch of saffron soil

To grow green, silk & brocade, I pray
Ending fall season, turned into gold, I supplicate
Naggingly I ask You, ٱلْمُعِزُّ
Gather this four-season-Ummah with just one breeze
Nabiila Azzahra Jul 2021
On rare occasions, I still pray
When it’s dark, I slip in one more prayer or two
I stand facing the qibla, saying God is great
I bow before the one and only, glory be to God, the Most Great
I stand back up, to God belongs all praise
The ablution cleanses me, the prostration humbles me
Glory be to God, the Most High
I wish for peace and mercy upon the angels on my shoulders
When I am done, I understand why people are believers
Because there are no angels on our shoulders in real life
The rest of the world is there in their stead, weighing us down
As if we are Atlas, cursed to carry for eternity
But the Lord is our shining beacon of hope who can absolve us
Of course people are believers, why wouldn’t they be?
Are faith and devotion not a small price to pay for reassurance?
For peace of mind?
On rare occasions, I still try to convince myself
When it’s dark, I slip away to find that light again
Yousra Amatullah May 2021
Pores are suffocating,
Unable to utter,
The flowing words,
In which truthful eyes,
Won't ever suffocate:
انا دمي فلسطيني
Yousra Amatullah Feb 2021
Shallowness got them waiting on a valueless ♡letter.
Whilst You've sent them a ♡book, containing 114 ♡chapters.. Oh Loving One, if they only knew better.

Darkness got their hearts blindfolded, they can't see.
He, not my brother, has the soul of a detainee.
Whilst Your Light gave us sight, the opportunity to just be and for our souls to remain free.

Though, there are times where we don't know how to pursue.
Naggingly we beg You to help us through,
Cause all we want is being so heavenly close to You.

Guide, please help the lost too,
And please ٱلْغَفَّارُ forgive this veiled crew.
Every interaction makes me blue.
Oh only if the meaning to Your divine words they knew..

Almost everyday my soul sang,
Trying to cope with the fact that I couldn't get along,
With those who are constantly whispering another song.

I felt left out for generations,
Not impressed by their so called sensations,
Not dealing the same way with worldly temptations.

To the extent that I almost doubted what we inhaled,
It couldn't be the same, with their hearts veiled..
Made me think about us being scaled, and therefore not wanting to act derailed.

I've left myself out of this tremendous way of living,
Only to hear them whisper what I should be giving,
Parts of my soul and body - why bother, isn't He Most Forgiving?

Now I can't say I do,
I give away parts of my breath whenever I try to exhale - for if they only knew..
My soul is still intact, my body attached to the feeling of obeying You.
Sabika Dec 2020
Who knew that this scarf on my head
Could make the rope that will tie my noose?
Who knew that this stone that
Kisses my forehead could turn into
The ammunition to crack my skull?
Who knew that my loose clothes could
Let in enough air to tear it from my body?
Who knew that my enemies would have the power to define me, judge me and sentence me?
Who knew that love would label me guilty?
This poem is about the oppression that Shia Muslims face not only by non-Muslims but also by other Muslim sects. It’s hard enough to be a Muslim, let alone a Shia.
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2020
You do your I do mine
in such religious norm
that’s not meant to force
no respect one could find
could this be a healthy mind?
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