Islam · poetry

The Muslim Mold

Born into this,
no choice but to submit,
where was the chance? 
She was pierced with that lance, 
it was not in her soul, 
they made her into the Muslim mold.

Her parents and teacher conveyed, 
unto Allah you will obey! 
Don't forget even an ayah. 
To Allah - that is defiance! 
You will be a kafir, 
on the last day you will have no chance, 
you will go with the people of the book, 
to be tortured with fire and iron hooks. 

Questioning her deen,
she asked Allah for a sign,
reading the Qur'an, 
studying Allah's plan. 
It didn't make sense, 
Why would Allah care -
about women's obedience? 
The woman is beaten!
It's like something from the shaytan!

Learning about her prophet, 
increasing her knowledge, 
it was sounding less divine, 
Oh ALLAH! Give me that sign!

Unto Allah she waited, 
everyday which passed - her faith, abated,
She was enjoying this dunya, 
and she stopped practising the sunnah - 
Of the prophet she once held so dear, 
who wrote that book of hate -
and filled with fear. 

She no longer had fear of hellfire, 
and could live to her hearts desire. 
Then one day she left, 
she lost everything - 
and was bereft, 
always looking over her shoulder, 
but she knew - 
that Islam could no longer mold her.

 

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