He went up to the mountain, he went up to the cave, Looking for the silence, looking for the grave. A voice came out of nowhere, it pressed him till he shook, It squeezed the breath right out of him and told him, "Read the book." No "fear not," no "be not afraid," No angel of the Lord ever came that way. Every messenger in scripture opens with a word of peace, But this one came in terror and it never gave him ease. He ran home to Khadija, he covered up his face, He said, "I think I'm a poet, or a man the jinn embrace." She ran to her old cousin, a man who read the scrolls, And Waraqa said, "It's Gabriel — the same one Moses knows." But Gabriel never spoke to Moses, not by name, not in the text, That name shows up in Daniel, centuries after the rest. And Waraqa was a hanif, self-taught, not in the fold, A guess from an old man who was dead before the story's told. The Black Stone was already there, the pagans walked around, They kissed it, they embraced it, they bowed down to the ground. He took the shrine, he took the stone, he kept the circling rite, He smashed the idols, kept the cube, and called the old thing right. Hubal was the chief idol, Baal was the storm god's name, Stack them up, call it Satan, play the same old game. The Mahdi's coming, the earth must bend, the nations must submit, Satan wants the whole world too — so tell me, what's the difference? It's the same ambition, it's the same old claim, "The earth is mine, the earth is mine," in every demon's name. He thought he spoke to angels, but the terror tells the tale, No servant of the Most High God would ever make you quail. So sing it in the darkness, sing it in the light, The cave was not a holy place — it was a demon's night. The Quran says "read," the angel squeezed, the prophet ran in fear, And every step from that dark cave has led the world to here. He says the Son is not the Son, the Word was never made flesh, That Jesus never died upon the cross, that God has no begottenness. He calls him prophet, servant, man — but never Lord, never God, And every spirit that denies the Son is walking Satan's road. Muhammad was a false prophet, a literal antichrist, He took the name of Jesus and he twisted it to lies. He stripped the cross, denied the Son, and called the darkness light, Then built a house of circling stone and named the old shrine right. So Christians, do not hide the Word, do not soften what is true, Go show the Muslim the real Christ — the Light the cave never knew. Not a prophet only, not a servant without a throne, The Word made flesh, the risen Lord, the Savior and the Son. Hold out the Gospel, hold out the cross, hold out the empty grave, And call them from the terror-night into the One who saves. The Light still stands. The real Jesus still speaks. Take it to them.
