Death knocked on a bedroom door
“Who is there?” , the sleeping one cried.
“I’m Angel Izrael, let me inside”
At once, the man began to shiver,
As one sweating in deadly fever.
He shouted to his wife,
“Don’t let the Angel take my life.”
“O Angel of Death, I’m not ready yet.
My family, on me depend, give me a chance,
To go back and mend.”
The Angel knocked again.
“O man, it’s your soul that I require,
I come not with my own desire.”
Bewildered, the man began to cry:
“O Angel, I’m so afraid to die.”
“Let me remain here as your slave,
Don’t send me to the grave.”
“Let me in, O man”, the Angel said.
“Open the door, get up from your bed,
You can’t stop me from coming in,
Angels can go through objects, thick and thin.”
The man held a gun in his right hand,
Ready to defy the Angel’s stand.
“I’ll point my gun towards your head,
You dare come in, I’ll shoot you dead.”
By now, the Angel was in the room saying,
“O man, prepare for your doom, foolish man,
Angel never die, put down your gun and don’t sigh.
Why are you afraid- tell me O man-
To die according to Allah’s plan?”
“O Angel, I bow my head in shame,
I had no time to remember Allah’s name.
From dawn till dusk, I made my wealth,
Not even caring for my spiritual health.
Allah’s command I never obeyed,
Nor five times a day I ever prayed.
A Ramadhan came and a Ramadhan went,
But no time had I to repent.
The Hajj was already obligatory upon me,
But I would not part with my money.
All charities I did ignore,
Taking usury more and more.
Sometimes I sipped my favourite wine,
With flirting women I sat to dine.
O Angel I appeal to you,
Spare my life for a year or two.
The laws of The Qur’an I’ll obey,
I’ll begin solat-this very day.
My fast and Hajj I’ll complete,
And keep away from self-conceit.
I’ll refrain from usury,
And give all my wealth to charity.
Wine and unlawful women,
I’ll detest, Allah’s oneness I’ll attest.”
“We Angels do what Allah demands,
We cannot go against His commands.
Death is ordained for everyone
Father, mother, daughter and son.
I’m afraid, this moment is your last,
Now be reminded of your past.
I do understand your fears,
But it is now too late for tears.
You lived in this world,
Two score or more,
Your parents you did not obey,
Hungry beggars, you turn away.
Your two ill-mannered, female offspring,
In night clubs, for livelihood they sing.
Instead of making more Muslims,
You made your children non-Muslims.
You ignored the Adzan, nor did you recite Qur’an,
Breaking promises all your life,
Backbiting friends and causing strife.
From hoarded goods, get profit you made,
And your poor workers, you underpaid.
Horses and cards were your leisure,
Money making were your pleasure.
You ate and ate and grew more fat,
With the very sick you never sat.
A little donation, you never gave that could a little baby save.
You thought you’re clever and strong,
But O man, you have done enough wrong.
Paradise for you? I cannot tell,
The disbeliever will dwell in hell.
There is no time for you to repent,
I’ll take your soul for which I’m sent.”
Adapted by Dr Y Mansoor Marican, Ph. D
From “Operation Death” by G.H.E Vanker
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