Masjid al-Aqsa, the first Qiblah you face\nFor much of history, its presence was embraced,
The rewards of prayers increase 500 times,
But that’s not what you’re seeking, you’re too busy chasing dimes.
There was a time this sanctuary used to be filled,
Hearts were connected, people were thrilled,
Rows of believers stood side by side,
But then resolves weakened, your aspirations died.
With every sunrise, the golden dome glistens and glows,
Yet within this courtyard, there’s a deep sorrow that flows,
As I listen for footsteps that sound like home,
From London, Kabul, Accra, or Rome.
But met with a silence running through the wind,
My significance, you so easily prescind,
I include a chamber where Lady Maryam would reside,
Purity personified - receiving news of a son that changed the tide.
Every crack, every stone has a story to tell,
A place warriors walked, and egos fell,
An angel has stood or a prophet once prayed,
But then you moved on. If only you remained.
O Ummah,
Whilst I have seen hands raised in chains,
Yours have been full in worldly gains,
On my blessed surface, old tears have dried,
While the ‘One Ummah’ remains disunified.
I saw the likes of Salahuddīn,
Amongst the greatest conquerors history has seen,
To liberate al-Quds, he lost his sleep,
Now I say I’m wounded, you say, “it’s not that deep”.
I teach patience to those who are broken,
And loyalty to those who have awoken,
But you are in dire need of guidance,
What you have offered me is a deafening silence.
I am the heartbeat you forgot to protect,
You became too occupied with each and every sect,
A friend is known in hardship and ease,
I keep calling…do you hear my pleas?
O Ummah,
My condition depends on the state you are in,
So when will you leave engaging in sin?
You are not needed only after the victory,
You claim you care but your actions are contradictory.
I need your presence now more than ever,
I’m a link you cannot bear to sever,
You often travel to other destinations,
Leaving what’s important, giving in to temptations.
Is it not time to enrich your soul?
As soon as you enter, I’ll make you feel whole,
There are days I’m visited by mere cats and pigeons,
You said you loved me more than other religions.
A home is liberated not when its doors swing wide,
But when its people return and hearts collide,
If you can’t come, please lighten my lamps, spread the word,
I can’t do it alone; my voice goes unheard.
O Ummah,
I await the hour I can breathe and be free,
Until then, will you stand by me?
