In this poem, Masjidil-Aqsa stands as a silent witness to its sacred past, invoking memories of the Prophet's presence in every whisper of the wind. Yet, in its solemn ambiance, it bears the weight of injustice and siege, a poignant reminder of the struggles faced by the faithful.

Oh Masjidil-Aqsa.!
Still the sacred words of ‘Subhanallazee- Asra’, are a living testament to your exalted glory ;
Still you revive in the minds of the Faithful, the Truthfulness of the Journey and its story .
Still I can smell the fragrance of my Prophet, from the winds touching your walls and roof ;
Still your ambiance and the surrounding aura, speak of his Ascension as a towering proof .
What an irony! You are now crying with pain, under the unholy siege of your barbaric foes ;
Sura Bani-Israel is opening with your praise, but the nation of Israel is adding to your woes .
Among your believers are those mighty kings, before whom their people tremble with fear ;
who always pretend to love ‘sharia’and Qu’ran, but to your anguish, they have turned a deaf ear .