The Martyr
Silent there he sat staring at the tiles,
Broken cold and bare...
Like the children and their smiles.
Silent he looked up to see a bright white light.
He saw the sun deep in his mind...
He was tied and couldn"t make things right.
With each kick, his soul just shook.
A feeling he thought he"d never know...
A prisoner holding to an oath he took,
Reciting through each blow.
Silent he lay trying not to swallow his own blood.
Remembering his mother who held him as long as she could.
Struggling to breathe not wanting to go,
Without saying good bye or seeing his baby grows.
Silent he took another boot in his side.
His soul now loose but bursting with pride.
Then he looked up only to see...
A gun to his head that would set him free.
He smiled and took a moment to say.
La Illaha Illa Allah Muhammad rasullullah.
He closed his eyes and slept at ease...
Still smiling, still silent, with heavens keys.
Source: islamicpoem.com
Other links:
Cry the Beloved Country
Poem: Lost homeland