They ask me the difference between hellfire and Heaven
I say between the left and right hands of Abel Hassan
* * *
They ask me about my Islam as if I don’t believe
And they ask me such as if I’m anything but human
They ask me in a way where they demean my existence
And expect that I’ll stutter and will answer with caution
They ask me in a way that they know all of the answers
I answer in a way that’s more certain than they’re certain
I answer them when they ask me why I “overpraise” him
Because he was born in the magnet of your prostration
* * *
They tell me that my love for him is strictly forbidden
I tell them forgetting his love is an innovation
They tell me that we make him to be something that he’s not
I tell them if he’s not great, why isn’t he forgotten?
They call me a disbeliever and a polytheist
I say call me what you want, my faith is still unshaken
They tell me that my love for him left faith in division,
I tell them without this love there would be no religion
* * *
I answer when they tell me that this love has made me mad
Then how is it I’ve used logic to reach this conclusion?
They ask me how is it you believe such insanity
I say I never kept quiet when I had a question
They tell me how can you say that he was meant to be first?
I tell them after three he was begged for that position
They say how can you choose him over those Mohammed loved
I say when others ran, he gave Mohammed protection
* * *
They say how can you choose him as first when they chose a first
I say the Lord chose my decision, not an election
They say Khaybar was all he did, don’t pretend he did more
I say that the gate to Mohammed’s city he’d open
They say how can you say he had a say in miracles?
I say only Ali can affect the sun’s rotation
They say how can you say that Ali is just like the moon?
I say Mohammed’s the sun, Ali is his reflection
* * *
They tell me I’m wrong and I’m destined for hellfire
I tell them I have Ali, my faith is never shaken
They tell me I lie, I tell them nothing have I hidden
You look into my eyes, you see “O’ Ali” is written
You see the letters of his name in my pupil glisten
You see I’ve given him my soul, my house and my children
You see I’ve given him all that you have never given
And even if I’m wrong, I’ll wait for his intercession
* * *
(London – 25/10/13)