Poetry
This morning,
the wall they planted raised with the early sun
climbed high
towards the shadowy sky.
A tiny, lifeless body,
All wrapped in white,
Janazah prayers are done,
Day turns to night.
Would someone help stop the battle,
I can't hear the sound of my rattle.
Little stars up in the sky
You light the heavens way up high
Allah has placed you there to shine
You are amongst His wondrous signs
I often think when I might sin,
What if the Angel would come to me then?
Would I want to be risen doing that sin?
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