Denial

7

How often do we seek to deny the inevitable?

Denial

I am a Muslim and I have died

From death I could not escape, I could not hide.

I’m all alone, no one by my side

And this is my end, the one I denied

“I’m young” I said, “not even a bride”

Perfecting my religion? I never even tried

Now shrouded in white, all along to myself I had lied

And this is my end, the one I denied

The car sped fast, flipped over the rail-side

Blood everywhere, glass shattered with the doors pried

On this world lasting forever I had solely relied

And this is my end, the one I denied

Iman so weak it could be washed away with the tide

A fitrah and mind in constant collide

Turned cheek to my beliefs, a heart full of pride

And this is my end, the one I denied

The guidance it came but I pushed it aside

I wish I could go back! By the rules I would abide

But it’s too late, now shrouded and tied

By the shades of belief I wish I could be dyed

But this is my end, the one I denied

What will I see? What will my deeds provide?

My book is closed, the well of forgiveness dried

All the intentions kept in are brought outside

And this is my end, the one I denied.

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