Fear has become the chair of the sphere
Nothing seems too clear
Looking around for what looks like haram
FOr nobody wants to be a roasted ram
Men have been pushed to the wall
Swallowing enough till their throats become sore
We have been cheated with the loathsome meal
Our clarion call now sounds like war
The streets have been fed our blood
And the atmosphere our sweaty voices
Men have been trampled and are tired
But only God is our strength
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Like it. Nice flowing poem. A great write.