In the name of Allah, the Lord and Giver of Mercy.
The fog of war,Flashbacks of snapbacks on the heads of the cool kids in my high school The War known as the “Class of 2012” Many lost their souls, I knew few individuals with great goals, Lose their identities in lunch tables and classrooms, In basketball gyms and bathrooms, I ask you to ponder. Graduated from Islamic School, first day of high school was an interesting one I still remember the gasp I made in 9th grade when that classmate yelled a profane word, My head turned, hand covered my mouth as I thought Authobillah! This is unbelievable! Then the kid that was being cursed at said it back, putting arrest in my cardiac Organs like wow this place is trash… And here’s where something profane led to a realization that was profound Few weeks went down and even I… became desensitized by the sound… Ponder I saw a brother in the halls that I knew from the mosque When I tried to say salaam, he ignored me and ran across If you saw how fast he left… you’d think he played lacrosse, To my football fans, he ran like Randy Moss subhanAllah… The fog of war, Memories of teachers teaching Islamic history wrong And when I rose my hand to correct them they try to argue that I’m wrong The fight’s on, arguments in classrooms Kids in the class stay quiet, Watching the slander Making my people look violent I remember having to talk after class with teachers, They used to ask why do I always incite riots “Be a good student, please remain silent.” These are the memoirs of my high school experiences… Taught me a lot, this environment taught people to act like something they’re not Young teens can’t handle adversity with ease so they drink or smoke pot They call themselves cool but really it’s less fact and more thought. Islam, the lifestyle of the Muslim has protected me from the temptations Because I understand that we’re all headed to another destination And we need to act accordingly but our young generation is in a world Where we worship man-made creations, ponder… We know more about celebrity biographies, discographies, filmographies, But don’t know much about the prophets and companions and their philosophies. And honestly, our people are either acute, obtuse, or Isosceles Some have a lot of knowledge, but not a lot of patience or akhlaq you see The fog of war, life has its good and its bad But I take notes, when I mess up, the pen hits the pad When I mess up, I sit down, reflect and feel sad But it’s back to standing up and being a strong Muslim man I had a dream, maybe not like Martin Luther King Here’s the story, I had a dream of a young man who was missing his pair of wings He was sitting all alone at the college, he was thinking of many things Then he met a polite brother, and asked if he could accompany him In dreams, time goes quick, a few months went by And that young man met the whole MSA group of guys And then when they went to go pray, the brother wept, he cried And the brothers consoled him, what’s wrong they replied And he said, “I can’t lie! I haven’t prayed since I was 9!”
I woke up, his confession echoing in my mind I got out of bed, because the azaan came. It was Fajr time A few days later at school, I was about to go pray with the guys And one of the new brothers pulled me to the side, and said I wanted to say this for the longest time.
I don’t remember the last time I prayed, Felt like my heart died Watching you all made me realize that in Allah I rely If it weren’t for your examples though, I would have probably sat at that table and sighed And then I interrupted him and said only Allah can guide And as the day ended, I saw the fog clearing up The battlefield just paused, as my eyes began tearing up If you place your forehead to the ground, know that Allah is hearing us So pray and make supplication, pray that Allah is steering us. So to the brothers and sisters struggling with their faith, Y’all are constantly in my thoughts It’s hard out here, the shaytan on our blocks It’s never too late to change, if you’re alive you’re not lost We’re here for you, the first step is coming back to the mosque My request is for all of us to ponder…
© 2015 Khalafalla Osman