A bomb, with soft fur,
Is rolling in slow motion before your eyes
It can illuminate your way
While you are going out to the dawn prayers
Its bang will melt in calls for prayers
Coming out of five hi-fi mikes
Cheering your going down the street,
And jamming the obsession of devils in casual
Who are dancing around you.
It can tear up the girls
Whose lustful eyes are fixed on you
In a continuous striptease all along the way.
On your way back, don't be surprised
That pairs of shoes in front of the mosque
Are more than the number of prayers
Who got the honor of martyrdom
But never seen a single bit
Of what you have seen.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment