Malaish Ya Makkah

Malaish Ya Makkah

 

I see thunder

I see lightning

I see the sun

Resembling Venus

She fumes in fury

I see the blessed mountains

Crumble to dust

I see NOT a new horizon!

 

As I close my eyes

In guilt to distract my vision

of this tragic reality

Images of destruction, greed, genocide, and oppression

come to life.

The sacred house

The Black Stone

The Makkans

Pilgrims united

All stand, frozen in time and space

Protest their anguish

Hands raised to the heavens;

“Has the final hour come?” They ask.

A voice calls out, “This is just the beginning!”

Still bystanders transformed to statues;

clay like figurines from prehistoric Arabia

The skies cry a mighty roar

Out pours Noah’s flood

A modern day deluge

Systematically sent by gruesome souls;

stone hearted capitalists

to wash away opposing residue.

 

A new day dawns

History a washed buried beneath layers of artifacts

treasures, sacred dwellings, Abrahamic heritage,

companions and female daughters.

Now all in abyss.

Extinct at last!

 

Processions follow

Grand ceremonies

Mass Celebrations

Media Madness

Economic boom

Ribbons cut

Surgeons gather to unveil New Bakkah.

Like a forced marriage

Bakkah sobs in utter sorrow

To the world like Mother Queen

She upkeeps her gracious smile

A modified bride stitched, scarred,

Coated with wax

Her blood stained gown

remains oblivious to the masses.

‘LE ELAFI QURAISH’ she murmurs in pain.

In shame we offer our condolence to you oh mother with two simple words:

Malaish Ya Makkah.

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