Light On The Side of Mt. Uhud

In the darkness, the sun rose
A cool breeze blew in the heat
And soft rain woke dead earth
Can you hear the cry of ahad
Lingering like his sweet scent
Here is the whispering of light
And blood soaked swords
Crouched about a blessed cave
This is the echo of the lion’s roar
Ringing in the mountain shade



In the darkness [of the pre-Islamic times], the sun [the Prophet صلى الله عليه و سلم] rose [was deputed];

A cool breeze blew [the prophet صلى الله عليه و سلم was described as being as generous as the blowing wind] in the heat [of the desert];

And soft rain [the message of Islām] woke [revived] dead earth [humans lost in the darkness of ignorance];

Can you hear the cry of ahad [a reference to Bilāl رضي الله عنه who would utter this (i.e. ahad, the one Allāh) as he was dragged through the streets of Makkah];

Lingering like his sweet scent [the Prophet’s sweet scent would linger in the streets he walked through due to which people would know that he had passed that way];

Here is the whispering of light [the first revelation of Qur’ān];

And blood soaked swords [the polytheists who tracked the Prophet صلى الله عليه و سلم and Abu Bakr رضي الله عنه to the cave in which they were hiding on their way to Madinah];

Crouched around a blessed cave [referring to (1) the cave where revelation started, and (2) the cave that was covered by the spider during the hijrah];

This is the echo of the lion’s roar [a reference to the Lion of Allāh and His Messenger, Hamẓa رضي الله عنه who was martyred at the battle of Uḥud];

Ringing in the mountain shade [the shade of Mount Uḥud]


Bless you, child

Bless you,
busy handful,
bubbling joy,
giddy as the bright rays of morning.

Rambunctious bundle of delight,
medicine prescribed for the heart
worn threadbare by life’s worries.

Bless your soothing giggle,
chubby cheeks,
and two-teethed smile,
a balm for sundry pains.

Bless your silly head tosses.
And your fatty legs,
wobbling beneath you as you shriek
and squint wide-eyed mischief at your mother.

Bless you, chubby child,
miracle sign among a million others;
all proof of the One.


You cut Joy at the root
You wreck the fresh blush of Youth
O, ravager of Beauty and fleeting Fame
Even the dead hearts tremble
at the mention of your name

Destroyer of crowns bedecked with jewels
And bellies distended, devoid of food
Your iron grip, none can elude

Your arrival is never premature
Though it separates lovers
From those they adore
Like the dull thud of dirt
Rapping softly on eternity’s door


Describing porn’s effect to a U.S. Senate committee, Dr. Jeffrey Satinover of Princeton University said, “It is as though we have devised a form of heroin 100 times more powerful than before, usable in the privacy of one’s own home and injected directly to the brain through the eyes.”(

In hushed silence, she mounts a crimson throne crafted from the bones of all who welcome her embrace. Leering, Lust waits in the wreck of our disgrace.

Hypnotized by her ravishing eyes, shy lovers have slipped under her sable sheets and shamelessly spread their thighs. The strong, now shattered, have wailed without shame as they unleashed their grief. Relieved of their senses, the sane and the sighted have been set stumbling in the streets.

Under her admonishing lash, the weary flesh has renewed its long toil. In the crook of her palm the restless heart screams, ‘merci, o vicious mistress.’

In the end, when lovelorn haggards, the marrow sucked from their spirit, pull the last limp arrow from the worn quiver of their eye and let it loose to wobble madly on the wind while they hope and pray, on that day, a shriveled finger will part the shimmering mirage veiling her fiendish face and beckon their frail frames to that final place.

Maimed by her malignant games, these slaves shuffle obediently to their lonesome graves. Supine, the gelded wretches scream,’mercy! o, conceal this… our wretched shame.’

From day wo’k, infinite pay?


On the day of Absolute Justice,
from their very heart
even the polytheist will shout,
“truly you have no peer!”
and the denier, full of fear,
will weep to no avail
as humanity lifts that awful cry,
“ah! alas! if only I…”

There is no way to try again
now that reality has set in
No way to make amends
for that mountain of sin
Now is the day Man runs
from kith and kin
And drowns in sweat
up to his chin

Mighty will be the scales erected
and justly will they measure
every single little deed
done by both pious and transgressor

“Safety! Safety,” shall be the chant
safety, as they cross that fiery expanse
some on hands and knees, full of fright
some upright, crossing like a flash of light

a land of Bliss everlasting; a Lord well-pleased
this is the sweet fruit sprouting
from the seed of righteous deeds
for this the pious and the penitent
strive and plead