Qayama

The Day of ResurrectioN
QAYAMA

The Day Angel Israfil blows the trumpet of light
The day full of astonishing sight

Everything trembled by the fright of Allah’s might
Blazing fire holding the fierce heat intensely tight
With the Garden of Paradise drawn extremely nigh

The Day the trumpet is blown to smile or frown
For the graves to be turned upside down
For the burden of the Earth to be spat out

The Day the trumpet is blown, the day to mark
The Sun folding up and Moon vanished into the dark
Both joined together in the Cleaving and Quaking Park

With the sky cleft asunder
Making the stars loose their luster
When they seem to be scattered
Every soul shall know about this matter

Mountains blown like carded wool
After uprooted from everywhere
Vanishing into hallucination like a nightmare
Followed by a Rude Awakening which is surely fair

The Oceans set to boil and thirst
As if left to undergo a mighty burst

The day full of chaos, clamor and uproar
The day the dead bones are assembled at the core
In the exact proportion with their very finger tips
Eyes full of terror and frozen lips

The sad and gloomy faces starring
The bright beautiful beaming faces
Both waiting to meet their back braking Assess

The day when humans look like speckled moth
The day of gathering for human species of every sort

The Day when every soul shall witness Great calamity or hilarity
With no place of refuge or security
When they witness The Inevitable Sure Reality

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