HE KNOWS NOT HE DOESN’T KNOW

It is mystifying to hear
Unusual words against
The established norms,
Of a sense society.
It is queer to hear
A marauding marauder,
Coming upon you
In a deleterious dungeon,

Threatening your fragile soul.
In mask of envy, intruding itself
Into a wide field of grace,
Wanting to ravage you
And liquidate your arsenal,
With its 7th century merciless missiles,

And then you are defenseless,
With protectors, senile and anile
Your arsenal are brain and pen,
As they are sharper than swords,
Incomparable warrior in peace and war,

Then the pens of your disciples emerge
With swords sharpest than all,
And you only thought they'd not succour,
Alas! The defense stand by you,
With their suave modern armaments,
That can nuke any evil system,
Crushing the slayer,
And bringing a historic change
Lasting until eternity.

Composed on 14th May, 13
02:36pm


 

The Path

THE PATH
Composed by Huzaifa Sani Ilyas
8th May, 2013
12:07 a.m.

Straighthened path, smoothened, unbending
To the Promised Land, as always it's.
In the history of the world, ongoing,
Never missing or getting lost,
Undefeated when being on the track.

Being the first, and also the last,
The guide to true life, the mother of culture
Civilization and modernity, the foe to ignorance.
Ignominy is checked out when it appears
Peace and progress salute, even unseen.

The root of modesty, standing firmly for it.
Disgracing it is the beginning of failure,
Havoc it creates when it's fought.
Hapless dweeb and sycophant remain its enemies
Life discredit goes to its mimicker.

Gregarious, refined its adherents
roll on,
Breathing in ardent jubilation
Mimicking those devaluing it
From afar, afraid of being troubled
By those infamous folks, fortuneless
Who seek pleasure in disgusting it.

The sunlight that shines in every morning,
Bringing an end to the dark night,
Bringing the day of hope, the day of success
That shines in its glory
The moon which assuages the pain
Of hard day labour with substitute of joy
Expelling the darkness of the night.
The mother star that decorates the sky,
With starlets spreading all over
Following its oders in suspense
Revealing the earth's surface
On that darkly night

The house of prestige gets down
When it neglects its posture,
The house of low becomes the high,
The house of prestige and grace
When embracing it as good samaritan.

Dying isn't its character
But the nature of its antagonists
Immortality it allocates in the scenery
How then the creator let die its worshipper?
How then the imprudent malcontent lives
When it's the controller?

Low lands are to its foes, high lands are its lovers'.
Appreciating ornaments and thrill
The upshot of sticking to its creed
Suffices to bring a yielding recipe
From societal regrets to ecstasy.

Vulnerable is the society distressing it,
Conflict and anarchy, to say least
Become the result of its neglect
Those drink from its ocean

Being the richest and genius creatures.
Living cosmopolitan, nice and pleasant.
Appreciating the reliable and the cherished.

Despised is its challenger, lugubriously
Dwelling in penury and guilt,
Directionless as lunatic, messy and denounced.
Enjoying no more than having disgrace in dung.

The feeder of life, feeding with no stop,
The enlightener of the errs, having no chasms.
The sweetener of the tongue, dismissing the bitter,
The dispenser of life, the killer of doom,
The rescuer of souls standing on the precipice,
The cosmetics that makes man a man,
And woman

The seed of mercy that spreads across centuries,
The citadel of fantasies that never deform,
The voice of the voiceless which is ever heard
And seen even by dumb and blind,

The fighter for the truth, the panacea to peace.
The resilient legacy bequeathed by prophets
Leaving behind only trend of hope and strength,
Crushing all vices that threaten ingenuity,
Calling all to the path of utopia,
Closing all the perilous ones to dystopia.

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless handheld from Glo Mobile.