Magnificent are those towering dunes amid the desert, standing firm through their convictions and the shifting winds — their grains scattering, parting from what once held them together, yet meeting again in another place and time, forming an independent being after having been dispersed by the winds of change, shaping new dunes as proud and whole as before, even though they were formed from scattered grains from a number of dunes strewn across the heart of one homeland.
Doesn't this formation call on us to look at it and take it as an example, or has our ignorance dared to overtake us, given free rein to act and command?
Sadly, what is happening in my homeland has nothing to do with custom or religion — it is nothing but a priesthood of interests and submission to the dirham and riyal, produced by the collaboration of inherited legacies, which the sons then translated into a reality they coexist with and live off.
Priesthoods hatched by years of inherited notions brought in on the back of the occupier's tank, stitching together a disguised ideology that the vulgar, the dregs of thought, and those deluded by an Islam legislated in the churches of Britain feed off — translated by the neighboring state, becoming both carrier and carried, a description within a fire they lit with frozen thinking, claiming to be the sole truth.
What is happening in my homeland, upon which wolves have descended now that we've become sheep — is it out of scarcity or ignorance? Has our condition become this? No... it stems from nothing but a legacy of betrayal or collaboration.
As for collaboration, what happened yesterday is happening today; they were soldiers for the English, suppressing the sons of their own homeland for a handful of dust...
And the collaborators adopted sectarian or partisan ideologies, becoming harsher on the kingdom than the king himself — embracing Marxism, embracing non-denominationalism hatched by the English churches in both its forms, produced in the corridors of French backrooms, and from this came terrorism and its emergence, where anyone who disagreed with either was branded an infidel or a collaborator whose blood was permissible.
So the chain of betrayal and collaboration passed down through successive generations, their roles with the occupier varying, and the product of the years is nothing but a badge of shame upon us before it is upon them!
Have you not heard of the mute devil?
Have you not heard of the bankrupt traitor?
Have you not heard "Come to success" — so where do your feet stand within its bounds?
Beware of being among those who did not succeed...
As for my homeland, woe to my heart over a homeland slaughtered by the hands of its own sons, its heart left bleeding by an organized foreign occupation carried out by the hands of the homeland's own sons. And truly, in all sincerity, whoever sold my homeland's sands and conspired against them was nourished on what is forbidden — and so were their offspring.