For the sake of Allah?

They say “fisabil Allah, we’re getting married”,
When I hear that, I wonder what they mean.
To me that phrase has a certain sound
As if they only do it because they’re duty-bound.
It’s true we have certain obligations to meet
And doing this will help make our diin complete
But, does Allah want us to go into this thing
Like it’s a job devoid of all, or most, human feeling?
Or are we to act with high levels of compassion
Moved by respect, love, and mutually growing attraction?
When we become engaged, get married for Allah’s sake,
We should continue treating one another in the same way
Remembering that our actions be colored for Allah’s sake.
Allah is The Source of Mercy and The Source of Peace,
Shouldn’t our homes have touches of these at the least?
Fisabil Allah requires work with genuine effort,
It shouldn’t be dry like a dead-zoned desert
Looked upon with anguish and increasing dread,
Every color bleached, every sound mute, every feeling dead.
Irrigating rivers to feed yielding trees,
Relaxing the earth so it gives the best and takes the least
This is how it should be.
We have our niqahs and look at our mates,
We don’t use the word but they become our slaves
Spewing out money like they’re ATM machines
And at the other end we have the same thing.
At home we work them near to death
In a few years patterns become set.
Before we were beings so alive,
After, we’re ghosts, living, but many times we’ve died…
They say “fisabil Allah we got married”,
I wonder what it meant and what it means.
Because when we do for Allah shouldn’t hearts be free of distress
And our minds free and easily at rest?
Shouldn’t we feel that our unions are sincerely Allah blessed?
Something that’s done fisabil Allah isn’t restricted and locked in a box,
It’s loosened, freed, ever expanding and having nothing to make it stop

Mistaken perception

Once upon a time I had hope
But that was a hallucination gone up in smoke;
Powdery dreams like lines of coke.
Once when I would look in from the outside
I thought everything was so dignified,
I thought everything was done with pride.
Little did I expect the rude awakening,
The feeling of most of my world forsaking me
Or at least the method of how my thoughts were processing.
I used to dream with energy and vigor
Ready to take all the world’s rigors
If it meant raising us to something bigger.
Dreams filled with color and clarity
Every single detail covered unsparingly;
None of it could be touched by HDTV.
In the sunlight I could see the glow of fireflies,
Smell the slightest scent of the softest spice
But eventually my dream reached twilight,
Dreams are now nothingness. Night to day
I’m hit and I’m plagued
By nightmares that won’t go away,
I’ve become an insomniac
Afraid of sudden attacks
From left, right, front and back.
Demons of my optimism are haunting,
Pointing their fingers and they’re taunting me.
Their rotted faces leave me in a mess
I’m sprouting whites and grays by living frustrated distress.
These are the zombies of what I wanted to be part of,
They’re laughing and pointing,
Following and stalking,
Watching and waiting.
Once upon a time I dreamed of wonderful things
But now it seems
That I was just being naïve.
Sometimes I fall into this trap of mistaken perception
Often easily successful at self-deception,
Any touches of pessimism quickly going into recession.
My eyes see, my heart feels, my thoughts are clouded
Numbing my senses, regardless of how often alarms are sounded