Thine hour is drawing nigh
O world of sensuous pleasure!
Thine sands are nearly run
As all things have a measure.
The primrose paths of vice,
The thorny paths of virtue,
May soon be tread no more
By wicked souls and true.
With atom bomb and nuclear force.
O man! Thou hast attained
The climax of temporal joy
With soul and consience stained.
The Mighty Lord Who shaped the world
Is keeping watchful eye
On human acts and human speech
And human rebels' cry.
Domain belongs to Him Who made
The earth, the sky, the sea.
But faithless man with shallow wit
Bethinks the master is he.
The fall of man of Atomic Age
The sages all predict.
But men of faith and moral bliss
Will not become convict.
This heartless, maniac, frightened world
Is thirsty, parched, and dry.
The nectar of Islamic faith
It dreads and fears to try.
The war cry is loud and high,
And restless human hearts
Crave for perfect peace and calm,
Islam alone imparts.
The Muslims, so-called faithful ones
Alas! Their shameless deeds present
A false portrait of Faith in God
Which faithful, God-fearing resent.
Courage, trust in God and wield
The sword of moral loftiness.
Behead the demon-beast in you,
And meet Thy Lord in saintliness.
Repent, repent, repent, repent, repent!
The beastly life is not fot those
Whose solemn pledge with God has been
To live on earth with Angelic pose.