My religion is my oxygen.
My heart is only attached to the One.
He created my soul and body.
And in the good and bad I return to him.
He's the one for me.
And that always will be.
Forgetting what he blessed me with
Is not hard to forget.
I'm breathing throughout his Rahma.
And that's why I should be thankful.
This world is so toxin.
The bad and evil.
It's like I've been holding back on my good deeds.
But I know it's him the devil, the sjeitan.
Who keeps me down, on the ground
With his bad influence.
But I turning myself up, holding on the straight of our religion that Allah (swt) is giving me.
The air I'm breathing seems to be thick.
Closed to throw up, this world makes me so dammed sick.
But I try to stick.
Try to controle my breathing.
I truly find my healing.
In what's clearly appealing.
Islam our Nour and without it our life has no meaning
JE LEEST
ISLAM POEM
PoetryGedichten Met een religieuze tintje Verwerk je een tegenslag? Heb je een Imaan boost nodig? Of wil je eindelijk de juiste kick krijgen om wat aan je Imaan te doen. Hier deel ik een portie zelfgeschreven gedichten. Gedichten om te helpen je g...