Ramadan Ii Poem by Ibn Ali

It's the month of mercy,
When we reclaim the strength to fight desires,
Moderation is the mantra,
Self control the aim,
So the self who was enslaved,
Gains the means to be it's master,
Unfettered,
Free,
A word as short as it is sweet,
How more grateful in belief
Than when hardship comes with ease?
The soul's disease is greed,
And fasting spells relief,
It recognises wants and contents itself with needs,
Hard hearts can't help but soften,
When deeds become the topic,
Streams gush, from eyes that don't shed often,
Life can read a tragic novel,
The wealthy wears the poor man's stomach,
They both complain from hunger,
Some of their own volition,
Gratitude becomes abundant,
When you price the cost of living,
All the good we take for granted,
Breakfast, brunches, lunches, teas, snacks and dinners,
This guilt needs no admission,
This is our religion,
Our beliefs,
Our creed,
Where the righteous are rewarded,
But still need Allah's forgiveness