A Poem Based on the Story of Fudalah ibn Umair, radi Allahu anhu

When he lifted his hand to my heart

He was so odious to me

When he lifted his hand from my heart

He was most beloved to me

I was circling the house of Allah

With a mission engaging me

To murder Muhammad

The troublemaking Hashimi

He had shattered the bonds

Of our families and our certainties

He had poisoned the hearts of our friends

From our rites and our deities

When he lifted his hand to my heart

He was so odious to me

When he lifted his hand from my heart

He was most beloved to me

I approached him, prepared, through the crowds

Steadying to dispatch of him

He was easy prey in the open

Not a soul was protecting him

But before I could render the blow

His eyes burrowed into me

I sensed an absorbing radiance

A profundity

Then he lifted his hand to my heart

He was still odious to me

When he lifted his hand from my heart

He was most beloved to me

When he lifted his hand to my heart

He was my sworn enemy

When he lifted his hand from my heart

I was mended eternally

When he lifted his hand to my heart

His beliefs were absurdities

When he lifted his hand from my heart

There was no other guide for me

When he lifted his hand to my heart

He was so odious to me

When he lifted his hand from my heart

He was most beloved to me

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