Here's to a brother, once one of us
He kept to the faith, good and pious
But where is he now? oh Allah, I beseech
He's out Friday Night doing drugs on the streets

Did you see it coming , did any of you know?
If you did, did you help him those few years ago?
Now his life is meaningless and bleak
Once a strong brother, now he is weak

Here's to our sister, once righteous and pure
She prayed and she fasted, her Deen was for sure
Now, at eighteen, she's no longer chaste
Her innocent spirit, all gone to waste

God gave us all eyes for us to see
Yet we each still claim "it will never be me"
And these two from our Ummah once claimed that too
SO..My Sisters, My brothers,
IT COULD ALWAYS BE YOU
Contents

TO THE PEOPLE OF THE WORLD

    This is the story that must be told
   Of an Iraqi baby, not very old
  Lying in her crib on a star-lit night
    How could she know of those planes in flight?

    She lies there quietly touching her nose
Watching her mobile, wiggling  her toes
Oohing and cooing, so sweetly is she Talking to
someone, who could it be?

   An angel is standing with her in the room. The baby is smiling,
   unaware of her doom.
   The crib starts to shake and the mobile goes round
Then suddenly comes  the most deafening sound
 The ceiling drops in, in a second or two...
On her crib so she ceases to coo...
   No one knows how long she lies there
  Who thought about it? Doesn't anyone care? Is she alive?
Is she dead?
    Is she in pain? Now that you mention it,
who knows her name?
Her name is Amel, in English we say Hope
Crushed between the rubble, her tiny fingers start to grope!

 Where is my Mommy? I love her so dear.
Come get me Mommy! It's dark in here!
  I'm scared and hungry and I can't see my feet,
There's blood in my mouth!
Give me something to eat!

Where is Daddy? Where's my big brother?
 It hurts when I breathe! Where is my mother?
How long have I been  here?
Is this just a dream?
   I open my mouth,
but I can't even scream!

They appear again by my side.
    This time with a tear I plead...Why have I died?

   Am I alone in my suffering? NO, there are many others.
   In our grief and misery, we are all sisters and brothers.
Who are we,  I ask you.. for what crime did we die?
They're throwing a party!  Doesn't anyone cry?

Is it true? Am I nothing?! How could it be?
Don't they also have babies, just like me?
 It is war they say, of which death is a part.
  How blind they've become, how hardened of heart.
Did someone say hero?
To whom they speak?
  A VICTORY CLAIMED FOR KILLING THE WEAK?!
Why are they happy? Why are they proud?
 Don't they know that I'm cold in my burial shroud?!
    No war has been won; no ifs, buts or maybes
    For Saddam still lives: they've only killed babies.. Contents

" The Muslim Woman "Unveiled"
 By Izdehar Albowyha

 ~~
 You look at me and call me oppressed,
 ~~
 Simply because of the way I'm dressed,
 ~~
 You know me not for what's inside,
 ~~
 You judge the clothing I wear with pride,
 ~~
 My body's not for your eyes to hold,
 ~~
 You must speak to my mind, not my feminine mold,
 ~~
 I'm an individual, I'm no mans slave,
 ~~
 It's Allahs pleasure that I only crave,
 ~~
 I have a voice so I will be heard,
 ~~
 For in my heart I carry His word,
 ~~
 " O ye women, wrap close your cloak,
 ~~
 So you won't be bothered by ignorant folk",
 ~~
 Man doesn't tell me to dress this way,
 ~~
 It's a Law from God that I obey,
 ~~
 Oppressed is something I'm truly NOT,
 ~~
 For liberation is what I've got,
 ~~
 It was given to me many years ago,
 ~~
 With the right to prosper, the right to grow,
 ~~
 I can climb moutains or cross the seas,
 ~~
 Expand my mind in all degrees,
 ~~
 For God Himself gave us LIB-ER-TY,
 ~~
 When He sent Islam,
 ~~
 To You and Me! Contents

  Knowledge of God is my Capital;
  Reason is the Root of my Faith;
  Love is my Foundation;
 Enthuasiasm is my Horse;
  Remembrance of God is my Friend;
  Firmness is my Treasure;
  Sorrow is my Companion;
  Science is my Weapon;
  Patience is my Mantle;
  Contentment is my Booty;
  Poverty is my Pride;
  Devotion is my Art;
  Conviction is my Power;
  Truth is my Redeemer;
  Obedience is my Sufficiency;
  Strunggle is my Manner;
  And Pleasure is in my Prayer.

Contents

OPERATION   DEATH
by G.H.E. Vanker

 This is a tale of an average man,
 Who acts contrary to Allah's plan,
 If you are reflected herein,
 Then repent, and commit no sin.

 It was early in the morning at four
 When death knocked upon a bedroom door
 "Who is there?" the sleeping one cried
 I'm Izrael let me inside

 At once, the man began to shiver
 As one sweating in deadly fever
 He shouted to his wife
 "Don't let him take away my life."

 "Please go away, O Angel of Death
 I'm not ready yet
 My family, on me depend
 Give me a chance, to go back and mend .

 The angel knocked again and again
 "Friend, I'll take your life without any pain
 It's your soul that Allah requires
 I come not with my own desires.

 Bewildered, the man began to cry
 "O Angel, I'm so afraid to die
 I'll give you gold and be your slave
 Don't send me to the unlit grave.

 "Let me in O friend", the angel said
 "Open the door, get up from your bed
 If you do not allow me in
 I will walk through it like a Jinn.

 The man held a gun in his right hand
 Ready to defy the Angel's stand
 "I'll point my gun towards your head
 You dare come in - I'll shoot you dead.

 By now, the Angel was in the room
 Saying, "O friend - prepare for your doom
 Foolish man - Angels never die
 Put down your gun and do not sigh."

 "Why are you afraid - Tell me O man
 To die according to Allah's plan?
 Come - smile at me, do not be grim
 Be happy to return to him."

 "O Angel, I bow my head in shame
 I had no time to remember Allah's name
 From dawn 'til dusk, I made my wealth
 Not even caring for my spiritual health."

 "Allah's commands I never obeyed,
 Nor five times a day I ever prayed,
 A Ramadhaan came and a Ramadhaan went,
 But no time had I to repent."

 "The Hajj was already obligatory upon me
 But I would not part with my money
 All charities I did ignore
 Taking usury more and more."

 "Sometimes I sipped my favorite wine,
 With flirting women I sat to dine.
 O angel I appeal to you,
 Spare my life for a year or two."

 "The laws of the Qur'aan, I will obey
 I'll begin Salaat - this very day.
 My Fast and Hajj I will complete
 And keep away from self-conceit."

 "I will refrain from usury
 And give all my wealth to charity
 Wine and unlawful women , I will detest
 Allah's oneness I will attest."

 We Angels do what Allah demands
 We cannot go against his commands
 Death is ordained for everyone
 Father, mother, daughter and son."

 "I'm afraid, this moment is your last
 Now be reminded of your past.
 I do understand your fears
 But it is now too late for tears."

 "You lived in this world, two score or more
 Never did you, your people adore
 Your parents you did not obey
 Hungry beggars, you turned away."

 "Your two ill-gotten, female offspring
 In nightclubs, for livelihood they sing.
 Instead of making more Muslims
 You made your children non-Muslims."

 "You ignored the muadhin's Adhan (call to prayer)
 Nor did you read the holy Quraan.
 Breaking promises all you life
 Backbiting friends and causing strife."

 "From hoarded goods, great profits you made
 And your poor workers - you underpaid.
 Horses and cards were your leisure
 Money-making was your pleasure."

 "You ate vitamins and grew more fat
 With the very sick - you never sat.
 A pint of blood, you never gave
 which could a little baby save."

 "O human, you have done enough wrong
 You bought good properties for a song.
 When the farmers appealed to you
 You did not have mercy, this is true."

 "Paradise for you? I cannot tell
 Undoubtedly you will dwell in hell.
 There is no time for you to repent
 I'll take your soul for which I am sent."

 The ending however is very sad
 Eventually, the man became mad
 With a cry, he jumped out of bed
 And suddenly, he fell down dead.

 O! Reader take a moral from here
 Never know, your end may be near.
 Change your living and make amends
 For heaven, on your deeds depend. Contents

A Man's Trail

 This is the story of an average human
From his story there is so much to learn

"I work through life working day and night
Let me tell you of my miserable plight
Before that, let me thank Allah Most Merciful too
That's why I'm sharing my story with you

From young I was told I had to be the best
I must learn to score for my exams and tests
 I studied hard to be the top in class
 So that my friends will respect me with all the fuss

 In my youth days, I was actually insecure
 So much temptations and many are impure
 I prayed sparingly but it didn't help me
 Why couldn't I feel that Allah was watching me?

I wanted to be the cream of the cake
I didn't allow myself to make a single mistake
I wanted more friends and also be praised
When I didn't get complimented, I felt so dazed
I began to doubt myself again and again
Was I not good enough or was I insane?
I was feeling inadequate for my lack of looks
Was I too fat, short, or did my smile give the spooks?
I learnt to dress up in trendy clothes bought from stores
I wanted people to look at me and say 'wow' in awe

I wanted to be adored, praised and be popular
Success to me is to be top scholar
I wanted to shower myself in fame
I also hoped to earn a big name
I studied hard and topped my school high
I believe that to make friends, success is a tool

Whenever I was with friends and my date was just beside
I felt the pressure to display my witty side
I'm afraid my friends would leave me if I'm not nice enough
So I bought them gifts and other good stuff
Branded clothes, car, intelligence and friends indeed
You may think I have all that I need
But I'm still unhappy inside and I don't even know why
Was I not good enough, too ugly or too shy?

At work, I pleased my boss to show him I was the best
I treated my colleagues lunch and sacrificed all my rest
I was afraid that my boss disliked me if I lazed about
In front of him, I did my best and tried to stand out
Then I climbed the corporate ladder and be my own boss
Finally, I was successful but I was still in a loss
I was cheerful outside but scared inside
I was not even sure what I'm doing is right

I looked around to see all  my best friends
I wonder if they still like me if my wealth ends?
I cannot bear to face rejection or even fail
If I become poor and old, will my friendships be stale?
I work hard, but who am I trying to impress?
The fear of losing my reputation is causing me stress
I want friends to respect me forever and ever
I could imagine my friendship to sever

But alas! My business failed me terribly
I was down with illness and suffered painfully
All the people whom I thought were faithful friends
Left me because my status has no stands
I'm left alone and wonder whether it is true?
To make good friends, wealth matters too?

I looked at the side of my bed and saw the Qur'an
Guilt enveloped me because the Qur'an I have read none
Since I was alone and feeling so bored
I explored the Qur'an to know about Allah the Lord

True Muslims friends start to befriend me
It doesn't matter whoever I'll be
They accept me and love me despite my flaws
I don't have to make them like me by using force
I don't have to impress Allah with my witty charm
I already know Allah loves us and protects us from harm

With Allah's help, we can attain peace in self
So let's put doubt back in Satan's shelf
If there are problems with work and with men
Please remember that it's part of Allah's plan
Ask from Allah because He listens to us always
Allah will help us with His Kindness and Grace

I met a man who is unfortunately blind
He then advised me with words so kind
He said, 'Love yourself and be grateful for what you are
You owe it to Allah for coming this far

Allah loves us and makes us Muslims
But many people don't appreciate it, it seems
It doesn't matter if we're poor or earn less
Allah loves who we are and He cares
Don't do good deeds if you do it for show
Or else your spiritual status will sink below

If you're humble, do good deeds and pray to Allah Most Wise
You can earn yourself a place in Paradise
Good Muslims overcome worries and insecurity
They are unfazed even if they are treated with hostility

Why be a slave to affluence and glamour?
Why worry if we are not witty with humour?
Always be yourself, dear brother, have no pretence
Allah will still love you, even if you don't have any fans
Why be afraid, dear brother, when friends shun away
When Allah is there for you it's always that way.'

After the blind man left, my mind started working
I was still surprised and truth starts coming
It seems that I may be a boss or lying here poor
but good Muslims greet me with salaam, a smile and no fear

I kept wondering, what is success to me?
Is it about having friends, or earning a good degree?
I had all these and yet I was not satisfied
Could it be because that Allah was not on my side?

Then I realize that I have been foolish
My INSECURITY is the one that was my leash
Why was I ungrateful to Allah Most Great?
Allah's helping us all the way as Fate

Oh! I'm ashamed for being so proud
When my success was actually a passing cloud!
Now I realize my great big mistake
So I do more good deeds now with sincerity and no fake

Let's learn from this life and tread the virtuous road
Remember that this world is only a temporary abode
Now I live through my life devoted to the Islamic cause
And repent, so Allah will love me despite my flaws."

Remember true success is not about having lots of friends
In fact, it is about passing Allah's tests
Happiness is not about showing off your generous part
In fact, it's about the ATTITUDE of your heart

Say: 'I like who I am and I'm glad to be me
I love being a Muslim and Allah sets my heart free!
I can feel in my mind and in my little heart bone
I confess - with Allah around, I know I'm never alone'.

 -Written by Dee77

Contents

I am a Muslim

I AM A MUSLIM
AND GOD I PRAISE
FOR ALL HIS BLESSINGS
MY VOICE I RAISE

IN ONE GOD I BELIEVE
NO EQUAL HAS HE
LORD OF THE UNIVERSE
COMPASSIONATE TO ME
MUHAMMAD THE PROPHET
TAUGHT ME THE WAY
TO BE HONEST AND TRUTHFUL
THROUGHOUT EVERY DAY
THE HOLY QU'RAN
TO LIFE IS MY GUIDE
IT'S TEACHINGS I FOLLOW
BY IT I ABIDE

ISLAM MY RELIGION
PREACHES GOOD DEEDS
MERCY AND KINDNESS
TO THE RIGHT PATH IT LEADS
UPON ALL HUMANITY
GOD SHOWERS HIS GRACE
REGARDLESS OF COLOR
NATIONALITY OR RACE
THROUGH WORKING TOGETHER
OUR HOPES INCREASE
TO LIVE IN A WORLD
FULL OF LOVE AND PEACE

I AM A MUSLIM
AND GOD I PRAISE
FOR ALL HIS BLESSINGS
MY VOICE I RAISE Contents

   A Visit from the messenger(p.b.u.h)
            Sr. Camalia Bedu

             If Prophet Muhammad (p.b.u.h) visited you
                Just for a day or two,
              If he came unexpectedly,
               I  wonder what you would do?
               Oh I know you would give your nicest room,
                To such an honored guest,
                   And you would serve him your very best.

                        You would be the very best,
                     Cause you're glad to have him there,
                       That serving him in you're home
                      Would be a joy without compare.

                       But...when you see him comming,
                       Would you meet him at the door
                    With your arms outstreched in welcome,
                      To your visitor?

                   Or...would you have to change your clothes
                           before you let him in?
                       Or hide some magazines and put
                       The Quran where they had been?
                      Would you still watch those movies,
                            Or your T.V. set?
                         Or would you switch it off,
                           Before he gets upset.
                        Would you turn off the radio,
                        And hope he had not heard?
                            And wish that you did not utter you're last loud hasty word?

                      Would you hide your wordly music,
                      And instead take out Hadith books?
                       Could you let him walk right in,
                         Or would you rush about?
                    And I wonder...if the Prophet (p.b.u.h) spent,
                           a day or two with you,
                       Would you go on doing the things
                         You always do?
                    Would you go right on and say the things
                             You always say?
                         Would life for you continue
                         As it does from day to day?

                       Would your family conversations,
                         Keep up their ususal pace?
                     And would you find it hard each meal,
                           To say a table grace?
                   Would you keep up each and every prayer?
                         Without putting on a frown?
                      And would you always jup up early,
                            For Fajr at dawn?

                   Would you sing the songs you always sing?
                        And read the book you read?
                     And let him know the things on which,
                         Your mind and spirit feed?
                    Would you take the Prophet (p.b.u.h) with you,
                         Everywhere you plan to go?
                    Or, would you maybe change your plans,
                           Just for a day or so?

                     Would you be glad to have him meet,
                         Your very closest friends?
                     Or, would you hope they stay away,
                            Untill his visit ends?

                     Would you be glad to have him stay,
                            Forever on an on?
                      Or would you sigh with great relief,
                         When he at last was gone?
                        It might be intresting to know,
                        The things that you would do.
                       If Prophet Muhammad (p.b.u.h), came,
                        To send some time with you. Contents

"Ramadan the Training"

Hammad Hai  (Grade: 6th, Age 10)

The whole Ummah looks forward to the New Moon,
To the new month, To the new month of Ramadan.
Allah(S) then clamps down on the devil; clamps down the massive chains,
Locked airtight, for Shaitaan they contain.
Peace emanates from the black hearts and strips off the ink which soaks it,
It permeates through the lungs as we  breath,
And makes its way out of the mouth in the form of Quran,
Slowly it travels as sound, echoing back and forth,
Moving through the land, slowly but moving,
Isha moves in on the night,
Men are reading Al-Quran, the verses of Allah, for it is the first day
of Ramadan,
And so comes the peace.

Isha finishes with an announcement; Taraweeh makes the subject,
Muslims greet each other as the new prayer begins,
The beginning from where it starts, The Holy Quran builds the spirit,
And so comes the peace.

Lights flicker through the windows before Dawn, before the rooster crows,
Before most of the people get up, the lights of some buildings flicker,
For Suhoor is what is being performed,
We eat enough for the day, eat enough to last us to dusk, for in
between we fast,
For in between, no taste:  sweet or sour, no taste is allowed to be
inserted in the mouth,
The day goes on as the pangs of hunger and thirst try to devour you,
Rows of meat and stew cover the table for Iftar as your mouth waters,
Up at the clock you look, still an hour it reads,
Then you sit down as your mind flips back to its side; your hand
reaches out For peace, it reaches out to the Quran, and your
mind falls into the same state as it once was,
As it once was on the first day, the first day that brought the peace
That brought the peace to the land,
That brought the life, For it is Ramadan,

The Night of Power makes its silent entrance, sneaking its way into
the last ten odd nights of Ramadan,
One who knows is the All-Mighty Allah,
For the Night of Power is concealed to us by Allah,
By Allah, the Most Wise,
By Allah, the most Knowledgeable,
He concealed the Night of Power for His reason,
A reason that is unknown.
Allah has given us such a night, A night that is so beautiful,
A Night of Power, A night of enormous rewards,
Be Thankful, For Allah gave us such a night,
A night to use, A night to remember.

But the blessed Month is tapering away,
 As well as the chains that hold the Beast,
And now it is the end of Ramadan,
It is Eid, A day of celebration and joy,
But it will soon also end,
The massive chains will shatter and Shaitaan will torment again,
The peace will go but still lurk about in the minds and souls of the Muslims,
Yet only the true, loyal servants will be in acknowledgment
That this Ramadan was a training,
Training for when the Chains break,
For when the Chains shatter,
For when Shaitan is released,
When most of the peace is gone,
A training for that crisis,
A Training!
Contents

There is a place in which I love to be
When I cannot reach
my mother's comforting arms...
There is a place in which I love to be
When I think of the sparkle in a child's eye as he prays with his father...

There is a place in which I love to be when the stars are
bright, my heart is light and my mind is free...
When I'm blessed with success.
When I'm warm in my bed
When smiles are sincere and my mind is clear
There is a place in which I love to be...
There is a place in which I love to be when I'm discouraged
by defeat,insulted by those that I love, and disappointed by my irresponsibility.

Then, there is a place in which I need to be...
When commitments are weakened,
Diamonds stop shining and strengths are forgotten ...
There is one place in which I love to be...
Down on my knees, with tears in my heart, my head to the floor.

In submission to God is the only place in which I love to be.

Contents

Why shed these tears of sorrow?
Why shed these tears of grief?
Ya nafsy how soon you forget,
After trials come sweet relief

Why turn you from Ar-Rahman?
Why yearn for a listening friend?
Ya nafsy, do you not remember,
On ALLAH, you must depend?

Read you not those stories,
of the trials in days gone by,
Of the Sahabi beloved by Allah,
who for Allah's cause did strive?

Why loosen your hold upon him?
Why fling away, His outstretched Hand?
Ya nafsy, do you not remember,
Bilal's sabr on the blazing sand?

       "Ahad! Ahad!" He cried,
        While his flesh did drip and burn.
       "Ahad! Ahad!" He cried,
        To Allah alone he turned.

Forget you the firmness of Hamza,
As the gleaming swords did fall?
With Sabr he turned to Allah,
as the qureish did slice and maul.

Why drown in salty tear drops?
How can you dare compare your pain?
To that of Yasir and Summayah,
As the lay tortured on the scorching plain?

Forget you the charring of Khabbab,
As on burning coals he lay?
Ya nafsy how meager your suffering,
Wherefore do you lose your way?

Why befriend you not Al-Wali?
Why not in Salat to Him complain?
Like Job who only to Allah,
Turned in all his grief and pain?
Forget you that trials in this life,
cleanse your heart and make it clean?
Ya nafsy, why all this sadness?
do you not wish your heart to gleam?

Be patient in all your hardships,
Allah hears your cries of woe.
So trust Him and His hikma,
for He knows best and you don't know.

So tighten your hold upon him,
Lest He withdraw His outstretched Hand!
And remember the exmple of Bilal,
as he lay anchored on the blazing sand.

        "Ahad! Ahad!" he cried,
        While his flesh did drip and burn.
        "Ahad!Ahad!" he cried,
        To Allah alone he turned.
Contents