The blood of the martyr
By Showkat Ali

In my life
I’m extremely busy
Career and big plans
Wife and kids
Chasing wealth and status
Respect and dignity

The Mujahideen fight
To restore Allah’s right
Correct injustices
And make the world a better place
Not just for Muslims
But for all of humanity

Every day is a struggle
As I muddle through life
Balancing work and family
Leisure and pleasure
For me and my loved ones
No time for anything or anybody

Dodging bullets and bombs
Trying hard to stay loyal and strong
To the Islamic cause
Resisting the urge
To surrender and give up
The sincere warriors fight on

Work is hard
And I leave many fards
Even jummah
Compromise and pray that Allah forgives
Boss on my case 24/7
Even bring work home
For the weekend

The soldiers of Allah
Never compromise
Pray in many places
And positions
In between hitting and running
And always being hunted

One day at work
I collapse with a mild heart attack
Rushed to hospital
And surrounded by my loved ones
Even the boss pays a visit
And all are glad that I aint snuffed it

Mujahideen get wounded
Carried from the battlefield
By their companions
Leaving a trail of their pure blood
Medicine is scarce
So dua to Allah is the only option

I recover and get well
Back to work
And old routine
More stress and pressure
I feel ill
But only wimps complain
So I carry on
And one day collapse
And that’s the end of me
In this dunya
At age thirty seven

Wounded get better
And rush to the front lines
Every man is needed
Allah’s commands are heeded
Even the bloody and wounded
Odds are mounting
But who’s counting?

As I lie in my grave
I wonder
What did I do for my deen?
The angels come and question
I try evasion
But I can’t fool them

Victory or death
That’s the war cry
Hit by bullets
But still fighting
Surrounded and asked to surrender
No honour being caged
And paraded naked

Fight to the death literally
And put to death brutally
Body parts exploding
360 degrees of the battlefield

I feel shame
My life wasted
Judgement and punishment to come
Lived a hard life
But not based on Islam

The blood of the martyr
Flows feely
And smells so sweet
Intoxicating and inspiring
Those able to smell it

I made plans
To change in my late 40s
But the angel of death came prematurely
Oh! Woe is me
What would I give for another chance?

Death is the beginning
And not the end
So we send
Our salutations
To all those who passed away
In the path of Allah
And pity the ones who died
With intentions to change tomorrow