Free verse poem (does not rhyme)
How culpable am I?
By Ahmad Abu Khattab
How culpable am I?
I’m but one man who still lives and breathes.
No one who shares the same mentality,
A loner you may say is what I am.
The sun rises and then sets again,
The moon goes through its lunar phases.
Have I done anything to change this thing?
So I ask again, how culpable am I?
I see so many images of your devastating pain,
Lonely, sitting there by yourself.
A tear I shed at the site of your life,
But should I be really sad for you?
The accessories you wear are not like the others,
A watch? A ring? By Allah I say no.
Heavy and cold are the accessories that you embrace,
The shackles of oppression that immerse your wrists.
Have I done anything to attempt to free you?
Maybe a supplication here and there.
But what is stopping me from doing more?
So I ask again, how culpable am I?
Once a free man you roamed the land,
Practicing monotheism; the belief in the One.
Some blackened hearts viewed it as a threat,
Hastily silencing your beautiful speech.
Losing your family and losing your friends,
Like a poisoned dagger it pierced your life.
The aftermath so great it is hard to believe,
My dear brother, how culpable am I?
Would the rivers of blood that flow consistently,
Throughout the lands, every day and night,
Be witnesses against my fearful soul,
On the Day where there oppressors shall meet their torment?
I say I’m one man but does it really matter?
For don’t I have faith in the Most Merciful, the Most High?
The numerous battles such as Badr that took place,
Were we not one while the disbelievers more?
Excuses we make for our situation today,
A slave to commodities and the bright, green paper.
We look at you and we see your pain,
But what do we do to free you of your shackles?
How culpable am I for your pain my brother?
What has happened to the tight-net brotherhood?
Desensitized have become our emotions that are empty,
Love now a word that’s worn like material.
I imagine myself to be in your place,
How would I feel when the world has known?
Has known how my life is but fail to support me,
As if my believing blood is cheap to spill.
Hypocrisy now I sense in my feelings,
Wanting someone to come and help me.
Why would I ask the help of people?
To free me, while I myself haven’t given it?
Have I forgotten the story of Mu’tassem?
Such an inspiring story that unveils the believers.
Sending and army for one believing woman,
What a shame today we don’t even send a letter.
I sit here and wonder about the weight on my shoulders,
As a single believer what can I do?
Even if my mentality is that of a stranger,
The others around are not like me.
When shall the strangers be the majority of souls?
Where Mu’tassems are born instead of oppressors.
Such a time one can only ponder over,
Such a time a believer can only wish to see.
At the moment I remain in a defeated state,
Failing to uphold the Muslim brotherhood.
A question remains for the Day of Judgement,
For your situation, how culpable am I?
How culpable am I?
By Ahmad Abu Khattab
How culpable am I?
I’m but one man who still lives and breathes.
No one who shares the same mentality,
A loner you may say is what I am.
The sun rises and then sets again,
The moon goes through its lunar phases.
Have I done anything to change this thing?
So I ask again, how culpable am I?
I see so many images of your devastating pain,
Lonely, sitting there by yourself.
A tear I shed at the site of your life,
But should I be really sad for you?
The accessories you wear are not like the others,
A watch? A ring? By Allah I say no.
Heavy and cold are the accessories that you embrace,
The shackles of oppression that immerse your wrists.
Have I done anything to attempt to free you?
Maybe a supplication here and there.
But what is stopping me from doing more?
So I ask again, how culpable am I?
Once a free man you roamed the land,
Practicing monotheism; the belief in the One.
Some blackened hearts viewed it as a threat,
Hastily silencing your beautiful speech.
Losing your family and losing your friends,
Like a poisoned dagger it pierced your life.
The aftermath so great it is hard to believe,
My dear brother, how culpable am I?
Would the rivers of blood that flow consistently,
Throughout the lands, every day and night,
Be witnesses against my fearful soul,
On the Day where there oppressors shall meet their torment?
I say I’m one man but does it really matter?
For don’t I have faith in the Most Merciful, the Most High?
The numerous battles such as Badr that took place,
Were we not one while the disbelievers more?
Excuses we make for our situation today,
A slave to commodities and the bright, green paper.
We look at you and we see your pain,
But what do we do to free you of your shackles?
How culpable am I for your pain my brother?
What has happened to the tight-net brotherhood?
Desensitized have become our emotions that are empty,
Love now a word that’s worn like material.
I imagine myself to be in your place,
How would I feel when the world has known?
Has known how my life is but fail to support me,
As if my believing blood is cheap to spill.
Hypocrisy now I sense in my feelings,
Wanting someone to come and help me.
Why would I ask the help of people?
To free me, while I myself haven’t given it?
Have I forgotten the story of Mu’tassem?
Such an inspiring story that unveils the believers.
Sending and army for one believing woman,
What a shame today we don’t even send a letter.
I sit here and wonder about the weight on my shoulders,
As a single believer what can I do?
Even if my mentality is that of a stranger,
The others around are not like me.
When shall the strangers be the majority of souls?
Where Mu’tassems are born instead of oppressors.
Such a time one can only ponder over,
Such a time a believer can only wish to see.
At the moment I remain in a defeated state,
Failing to uphold the Muslim brotherhood.
A question remains for the Day of Judgement,
For your situation, how culpable am I?
