A Friday Prayer


Before the midnoon sermon was a starter
He had sat quietly on the corner,
His mien dripping with wudhu water
His all seeing eyes observe in glister

Standing on the altar was the preacher
Who took a brush and painted in anger
Onto the canvas of mosque-goers’ minds
“His face, everybody!” so cruel and malignant

Closing his preach, he asked everyone
To amien to the goodies begged from Him


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A Friday Prayer