Soars yet again, with sun, a billion hopes’ Azan
And a war-cry too, which dares a faith, to buy that frenzied passion
Which ain’t its belief, though, of many a pagan
Who weigh in benign blood, their hearts’ obsession!
Whose call-to-arms, which diktat, that impales thru the ears?
Whose blood-fest is this anyway, which flag they upheave?
Whose heads roll, on spite-tilled land, sow seeds of holy fears?
Sums up man’s eternal angst, his paranoia to believe…!
…That his faith runs the universe, his ummah reigns the lands
His God the only truth, who decreed him, the chosen one
To hack out, the crops of infidels, gave Jihad in his hands
For they ain’t any humans, whose Islam ain’t religion
Yet Azan rings on, the loudest, purest chime of fortitude
And moribund lies the battle-cry, in the lap of vanquished vow
Jihad is soul’s crusade against inmost sins, not a half-truth misconstrued
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