Too Late For Tears

Death knocked on
A bedroom door
“Who is there?”
The sleeping one cried.

“I am Angel Izrael, let me inside”.

At once, the man began to shiver
As one sweating in deadly fever
He shouted to his wife,
“Don’t let the Angel take my life”.

“O Angel of Death, I’m not ready yet.
My family, on me depend,
Give me a chance
To go back and mend”.

The Angel knocked again.
“O man,
It’s your soul that I require
I come not with my own desire

Bewildered, the man began to cry:
“O Angel, I’m so afraid to die”.

“Let me remain here as your slave
Don’t send me to the grave”.

“Let me in, O man”, the Angel said.

“Open the door,
Get up from your bed,
You can’t stop me coming in,
Angels can go trough objects,
Thick and thin

The man held a gun in his right hand,
Ready to defy the Angel’s stand”.

“I’ll point my gun towards you head
You dare come in – I’ll shoot you dead”.

By now, the Angel was in the room,
Saying, “O man, prepare for your doom,
Foolish man – Angels never die,
Put down your gun and do not sigh.

Why are you afraid – Tell me O man –
To die according to Allah’s plan?”

“O Angel, I bow my head in shame,
I had no time to remember Allah’s name.

From dawn till dusk, I made my wealth,
Not even caring for my spiritual wealth.

Allah’s commands I never obeyed,
Nor five times a day I ever prayed

Ramadan came and a Ramadan went,
But no time had I to repent.

The Hajj was already obligatory
Upon me, but I would not part with my money.

All charities I did ignore,
Taking usury more and more

Sometimes I sipped my favourite wine,
With flirting woman I sat to dine.

O Angel I appeal to you,
Spare my life for a year or two

The laws of The Qur’an, I will obey,
I’ll begin Salat – this very day.

My Fast and Hajj I will complete,
And keep away from self-conceit.

I will refrain from usury
And give all my wealth to charity.

Wine and unlawful women,
I will detest,
Allah’s oneness I will attest”.

“We Angels do what Allah demands,
We cannot go against His commands.

Death is ordained for everyone –
Father, mother, daughter and son

I’m afraid, this moment in your last,
Now be reminded of your past.

I do understand your fears
But it is now too late for tears

You lived in this world,
Two score or more,

Your parents you did not obey,
Hungry beggars, you turned away.

Your two ill – mannered, female offspring,
In nightclubs, for livelihood the sing.
Instead of making more Muslims,
You made your children non-Muslims.

You ignored the Adhan (call to prayer)
Nor did you recite The Holy Quran.
Breaking promises all your life,
Backbiting friends and causing strife.

From hoarded goods,
Great profits you made,
And your poor workers –
Your underpaid

Horses and cards were you leisure,
Money – making was pleasure.

You ate and ate
And grew more fat,
With the very side, you never sat.

A little donation, you never gave
That could a little baby save.

You thought
You’re clever and strong,
But O man,
You’re done enough wrong.

Paradise for you? I cannot tell,
The disbeliever will dwell in hell.

There is no time for you to repent,
I’ll take your soul for which I am sent”.

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Adapted by Dr Y Mansoor Marican, PhD from “ Operaton Death” by G.H.E Vanker.