When You Realise You Are Mortal 

You were searching through the rays of the moon 

that transcended from the sky. 

A moment of time with the seven levels of living 

had you open up to a conversation, 

and when at first you realized that you are mortal, you hid into a distance of voidness suspended by 

the clouds, chimneys, and falls.
You fall into tales: love that leads and that destroys. 

And as of everything is of God, he gives to humans except space. So you hid under the serenity of 

anxiety. But how do you evolve eagerness? 

You dance to its rhythm with a set beat of the 

aftermath of hard work. You glow at the rising and setting of the sun. 

You accept hatred from the horizon from which it has risen. And when your mind finds you at peace with

how mortal you are, the yearning to understand that which is beyond will grow; and at that, the fear of death will no longer linger. 

Watch Me Do My Dance 

You may put me down in the books of fate,
intertwined with history. You may pray me out of my dirt or you may dwell me in in darkness shielding from the voice of my silent noise,
but mum like a grave, I’ll keep still.

You may shroud me in tales that never existed. Make me up as one of the villains. You may await my calls for help and fire me up with guilt. You may torture me with your fictional soldiers,
but mum like a grave, I’ll keep still.

Do you want to see me dance, swing my waist and call it home while I await your faithful cries? 

Do you want to see me grow, make a pot of roses and name me beauty while I await your cherished tears? 

Do you want to see me cry? Take the ocean out of my name while I await your scented smile wishing that I scream help. But mum like a grave, I’ll keep still. 

Elsewhere on Critical Muslim: