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In the quiet grave, so calm and deep, A faithful soul lies down to sleep. Two angels come, with voices clear, But in his heart, there is no fear. “Who is your Lord?” they ask him first, With joy he speaks, his heart immersed. “My Lord is Allah, One and True,” The words flow pure, his faith renews. “What is your faith?” they ask him then, And with a smile, he speaks again: “Islam, my light, my path, my way,” The truth he lived each blessed day. “Who is your Prophet?” the last reply, And tears of joy fill up his eyes. “Prophet Muhammad, peace and grace, Guided my soul in every place.” The angels nod, and with a sight, He sees both Hell and Heaven’s light. Hell’s fires roar, fierce and wide, But he is safe, with peace inside. Then Paradise gleams, bright and near, A garden rich, without a tear. “Enter in peace,” the angels say, And to Jannah’s gates he finds his way.