With tears in my eyes dripping down my face,
I write about the sorrow in my heart,
A wound that hurts and refuses to heal,
A behaviour that is bad but refuses to vanish.
An act that causes flowers to lose their beauty.
What else can hurt more than this demeanour,
To see my sister in an indecent dress,
Covering her head with what seems like net,
Uncovering all that meant to be difficult to get,
And displaying herself all over the internet,
Forgetting all what’s going to come next.
A daughter of Islam with beauty like that of pearls,
Such a jewel has brought herself down like sand,
She has forgotten about the verses of An-Nur,
Swayed away by frivolities and fake friends.
To be forever drowned in the river of ignorance.
Oh! How I wish I can help those who are lost,
And tell the righteous to be cogent,
I’ll try my best to pass the message across,
Hoping it illuminates our hearts like light.
And heal the scar of the thorn in my heart.