The slam and the poetry,

I invite you cordially,

With no tourist fee,

So don’t join the chorus, be,

a leader that writes the song

Don’t conform to their chords and follow along

I slam this poetry like ideas in your mind

Proposed by foes and those who pose as divine

When really, man doesn’t know that this Sun that shines

Just a little too much, and his life’s declined

This water he drinks each day and night

Just a little less, and he’s lost his life

It’s that simple; these small, yet significant splendors

Can speak sedation and suffering for those pretenders

So they slam, I slam

this poetry of Islam

Because it’s man that is in a state of loss

As he rises in ranks from worker to boss

To leader, to president, to emperor

To body, to soul, to Hell for sure