Poetry, Unspoken

50 Lives

When Qiyamat comes, my mother used to tell me, when the day of reckoning comes:

Don’t leave your prayer mid way,
even if you hear nothing but chaos around you,
even if their cries make your very core tremble,
and even if your heart wants to pull away,
even if everyone else is leaving their prayers,
even when the monsters stand tall before you

Don’t leave your prayer mid way because

there is no where to run to but to Him.
there’ll be no one to save you but Him
no one’ll stand witness for you
nor save you
except those who love you for Him

When Qiyamat comes…

So I sit here and think
again and again
of our 50 precious gems
and what that moment must have felt like

how for a split second, it must have been like the end of the world
and yet
they stood firm in prayer – firm of heart – firm of faith,

knowing perhaps, perhaps not
of the beautiful status awaiting them.


إِنَّا لِلّهِ وَإِنَّـا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعون

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