I have a lot of dreams ahead

I don’t know when I’ll be dead

But I don’t want to sit under saint

The philosophy is too lame

You know what they say about Allah

That He is present everywhere

Not my Allah, not my God

Lo, He sits on His throne in Heaven!

My answers are in the Qur’an

And the tradition of Muhammad

The poets say you can see the Face of Allah

In flowers and things of beauty

Not my Allah, not my God

He indeed created this world, this tongue

But He is not a part of it

My God is not subject to the musings

Of a poet, philosopher or saint

Every rhyme or Sufi is not true

I am a Muslim, I don’t care

Whether you live on a hill or a castle

Asceticism doesn’t make you a saint

In fact, I don’t think they are divine

If they are, then you and I are, too

The light of Wisdom shines upon all

Irrespective of gender, age or race

I walk out on this custom

This ignorance of spiritual intermediary

Didn’t Allah give me mind?

Didn’t Allah give me heart?

Didn’t Allah give me spiritual touch?

Why should I be afraid of praying to Allah

Alone without calling on saint?

Rise and fall before Allah

From cradle to grave, you are His slave!

Don’t falter, don’t turn away