Businge Abid Weere
The stubborn prophet
He sat , hand on chin
Crestfallen, alone in the room
He could hear the word
It shouted at him
He ignored it
Surely he knew
Things were going right
Just some were coming undone
He tried all he could
It did not change
He heard the word
Surely he had learnt it by now
He used his strength
Things continued to unravel
He hang up his pride
He listened to the word
And finally went to honour
the summons to sit at the feet of the lesser prophet
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