As far as I know, it depends on two things: first, Allah’s mercy and will; and second, what a person did — in word and deed — before his/her death.
Please, note that childhood is excluded from this concept, because, children (all young children, kids) are not held accountable. Because, kids die before reaching the age of puberty; they enter Paradise in peace.
Death is not the end!
There shall be "Parazach" life
Before Judgment Day
Dying so slowly, burn the piled embers
Where I remember fire before your ghost
Touched the cold burial within my hearth.
Night snow on mantle, in belly; the hearth
Must fall to light still dark as the embers
Could melt once again my body; your ghost
Is dying within me when sheds your ghost
On skin; cold yet comes of the swollen hearth,
The dying's way with me in the embers,
The embers catch your ghost's gaze in the hearth.
surrounded by space
in a soundtrackless cinéma vérité;
long stares out of the window,
cigarettes after sex;
finally, she whispers, 'do you love only me?'
the question remains unanswered
while seasons fade.
the walls start closing in,
echoing the decade of quietude;
the busy streets outside remain,
stiff gins after six;
finally, she sighs, 'do you still love me?'
and while seasons fade,
the question remains.
That wall, friend, we leapt
Time's, fainter to stray
Naughtiest children bragged of!
Home; furthest away!
"Nothing of danger
Its hair-raising threat
But is, if stealthy and slow
With full consent met."
History returns
wearing its familiar scars—
time turns on itself
old wounds remember their names
locking onto now again.
Sky becomes a page
written over by old wounds
inked in ash and blight—
each generation writes on
what the last could not erase.
If time turns, will scars
stain the sky with red scratches?
tainting what comes next—
or will stars recall their place
when we forget who they were.
The last few days have been tough
with the weight of life getting heavy
and hearing that the world lost one of the
most special and kindest entertainers to ever
live, she gave so much of herself, her wealth,
her words, and her heart throughout her life
You will be missed, Dolly Parton!
You left the world a better place than you found it,
you touched more lives than you could count,
you gave the world your beautiful words and
you gave ME the desire to be a better person,
AFTER my cup of Ambition, that is!
Far simpler to pray the older one gets,
the awareness of little time left wraps your mind
and thoughts and regrets flood your inner being.
How sad that I cannot relate this age-old wisdom,
this depth of tranquility, to those that have years to squander.
I wonder if the feeling of remorse and the worth of a prayer
is only revealed to us when we can almost touch
the gates of the great here after.
After night
Now that my Father
Ended the night very fast
I am glad that my Father
Brought for us the new day
Last night I left all the windows
Open in my house
So that I could air
My house
Because it was very hot
Inside my house
Also this morning the birds
Woke me up
Singing their beautiful tunes
Built to ease bottled up restlessness,
a reprieve from overheating.
Left frustrated by fleeting,
all of the after hours
are fading so fast.
The bittersweet
summer wind
will not
stay.
Love is God
Love is Free
Free of guilt
Free of enemies
Enemies are physical
Enemies are spiritual
Spiritual rituals
Spiritual warfare
Warfare on the soul
Warfare on the mind
Mind drifts
Minds control
Control your food
Control your power
Power to the system
Power to the people
People of the brave
People of the new
New world order
New world peace
Peace on this land
Peace in heaven
Heaven will fall
Heaven will rise
Rise with fire
Rise with faith
Faith in man
Faith in God
God is here
God is in you
You the People
You men of change
Change your fate
Change your heart
Heart full of possibilities
Heart full of gold
Gold teeth
Gold chains
Chains inked to death
Chains welded around necks
Necks silenced
Necks of the innocent
Innocent souls
Innocent time
Time is not measured
Time allows healing
Healing through pain
Healing towards freedom
Freedom
Pain
Born with hair of a lighter brown,
A gentle soul in his quiet town,
He walked alone where visions spoke,
Through heavy air and battle smoke.
No crown of gold or feathered crest,
No tales of war upon his chest,
Just one lone feather was in his hair,
And lightning painted bright and bare.
Not born to rule with a chief's command,
He won the hearts of his own homeland,
From Rosebud's heat to Bighorn’s sound,
He guarded all he walked around.
He shared his meat, he fed the poor,
And kept the winter from the door,
A shelter for the weak and small,
He gave his heart to save them all.
When worn by hunger, cold, and tear,
He brought his people home from fear,
Yet freedom could not be contained—
A soldier's blade, a sudden stain.
He fell not broken by the foe,
With quiet courage, letting go,
A wild, free spirit, brave and deep,
Who gave his people space to sleep.
Now laid to rest where whispers keep,
In secret ground he takes his sleep,
Near Porcupine Butte's lonely height,
Hidden safely within the prairie night.
Once upon a time,
they lived,
happily ever after.
Or did they?
population motivated
afterworld adversity
touchingly touchline
detested comrade
undeserving snitch
shoplift stimulated
firing you
unsweet vanquish
torn debilitating
satinpod drenched
occupation serviceable
calmly savour
salvation tablemate
conceptual thanksgiving
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • July 27–August 2, 2026)
a quiet fairytale
Why so quiet he asked most sincerely,
I don’t want to rattle the skeletons in the closet said she,
the noise of rattling bones stirs up dust bunnies
and the mites of secrets lost in debris
at the bottom of old trunks and older tapestry bags~
You can tell me anything he declared earnestly,
old mites and dust bunnies have never scared me,
and though my own secrets are most mundane
they’ll hold hands with your skeletons and muffle those bones
so we can live life forever quietly, comfortably.
As we sit here eating talking about life’s lessons
and all that was taught
We laugh about the box and bottle
and the puppy that he brought
Hide yo food in the microwave before it gets sold
Are one of the many fun stories that’s told
But what do you do when the sex, love and feelings are gone
When the one who lost it still lingers on
I look at peace around the world
He looks at me wishing I was still his girl
I can talk and talk throughout the day
Yet he can’t really get out the words to say
I really like the way we laugh a bunch
So what’s wrong with breakfast, dinner, or lunch
Sitting down chillin’ is really cool
Cause there’s nothing different about this dude
What we had was us doing our thing
We ended up separated without a wedding ring
I’m focused now on the man I’m with
But he is still jealous, just a lil bit
He has a good woman in his life
So I told him move on and do what’s right
He’s part of my past that has made me stronger
For this relationship has endured its course
And we are no longer
However we still cool, nothing more and that’s a fact
So Lunch after Love, ain’t nothing wrong with that
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