The Patient and the Impatient

a poem by Mohamed Shuaib

The preacher and the leader
Met with death,
They were carried to the burial ground
Dug six feet beneath the ground.
And the soul flies away
To an unknown cell.
When forty steps away the people walk,
Arrives the angel of god.
The body regains the souls;
To ask about the whole.

What you have done in the life
That was given to you?
Preacher said: I preached God and the messenger,
And the holy book.
My regimen was in toto dedicated
Towards His grace.
While the leader hardly uttered a word;
Had he violated the tenets.
He was pretentious, depraved;
Of wealth he was ravenous.

What did you give to the men on earth,
To the knowledgeless?
Preacher said: I spent preaching the principles
Of the book of the lord,
And awareness to the men of the book
That they were decepted.
While the leader denuded the men
Off their rights,
Now, he yowled in deplore
For deriding the book.

The preacher’s soul then again retracted
To rest in peace,
He de jure was remunerated a place
Above the skies,
His grave glittering, the windows wide open
For the glimpse of the paradise.
Among four, the one left window was covered
In defense by the patience that he had.
He cried in joy “Clear the bondage of grave
And let me fly.”

The leader’s soul too detracted but
It never rest in peace.
His heart yowling for a chance to yield:
Recorrect the sins he did,
Lavish style, sumptuous life with it
He nattered and whiled.
Now his repentance won’t be accepted
By the invigilator high.
He cried never the Last Day appear
For he to face the hell fire.