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Whilst Prostrating

Stiffened like a stone under the moon,

The camels had forsaken him,

Unwilling to share the soft mattress of sand,

His snores were frozen and fatigue like his body;

His spine complained too much of the needle-sharp cold,

While his heart was aching and attenuating with despair,

He had dreamt of the golden days;

When humans were wholly amenable to God,

When roads and paths remained straight to heaven,

When benediction was sought for avidly,

When humans ensconced and wept for their sins,

Why was it transient and never lasting?

Every time his lips kissed the ground,

His forehead touching the woolen mat,

He had wanted to curl and crouch his body in that

manner forever,

While somewhere in the chamber of his heart rose

the crystallized vapour of hope that was once perished,

The venom of corruption irrigated in his body was not

potent at all to make his raise his forehead,

A man weak when he worships his God,

Truthfully, a God was only that he needed,

All the time amassing his faith to stand strong,

Someday maybe, he might become like the martyrs,

Sent as a brigade to refine the world…

Paradise was not that he greed for, but blessings

from his Creator…

Author: Fad-Chan Abdul Halid - Singapore


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