The Battle of Belief

Some people say 
The fear of God is the fear of death.
Some people say
God’s will is the fear of consequence.

When blind ambition erupts in our face,
What is left but a faceless dream,
As it slips through the seams of
Opportunity and convenience

Is the best life the right life,
Or is the right life the poor life?
Choosing supplication over opportunism,
Who really knows?

Riches or rags - can you have both?
For what is poverty,
If not an empty pocket.
Or can it be an empty soul?

A rich man may dress in gems,
But is there treasure in his home,
When love is a bar of a gold
As cold as his soul?

There is no right or wrong.
There is only you and I,
Discerning want and need
and time, the time to be

Selfish or selfless,
When to choose you over me,
Or me over you.
There is only a time and place for this

Post-modern answer.
I can’t impose truth but suggest
Truths for you to pick like fruit
Off the tree of knowledge

Since absolutes are violence
And tolerance progress
And morals perverse in an age
That is post-truth. Respectfully,

What is worth standing for
When snipers are around you?
Your silence is violence
But your truth hate speech.

I believe in God, yet God offends,
So I am offensive in my stance
To the court of public opinion
That are mobs of malevolence,

Shouting hate at the world
From their privileged position of victimisation.
Oh woe is me for my social deprivation:
I’m a women at whim of men;

I’m a nigga at the whim of Supremists;
I’m a muslim at the whim of the state.
God help me from this intersectionality
Under the subsections of oppression.

This is not what Dr King got shot for.
This is not what Jan Paluch killed himself for.
This is not what Mandela went to prison for.
This is not what Jesus died for,

A world so self-righteous and entitled,
Malevolent in its essence that it rallies
Mobs to harm those with different views.
Who would want to stand for that?

Yes I said that. Mashallah I said that!

I am not a decisive man,
Nor am I a faithful man.
I am just a man,
Bending like branches in the wind,

Noble today, dishonourable tomorrow,
A walking contradiction.
Take my words like oil on water;
Decide what is right and just,

Knowing that we are all paradoxes
Of the views we espouse,
But this is no excuse
For indifference in a world shaped by violence.

I say this all as a call
To help the Samaritan on the road,
When he loses his way to the bandits of life,
For we are all each others neighbours

On a path towards the grave.
Is the stretch of earth not lonely?
Is the sun not hot enough already?
The least we can do is be tender-hearted

To the Ishmaels of our Isaacs,
To the apostates of our faith.
Let us lead by love
And let it speak the truth

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