Golden Speech

Faith shapes humanity, yet contradictions linger. This poetic journey traces Christianity’s historical struggles, Islam’s clarity, and the contrast between man‑made doctrine and divine revelation. Written in verse for the heart and the mind, it invites reflection more than debate.

In lands of olive, sun, and stone,
A man walked humbly, not alone.
He spoke of One, the God above,
Of mercy, guidance, truth, and love.

No throne he claimed, no crown he bore,
A prophet sent to hearts once sore.
His words were light, his path was clear,
A call to faith, not rule or fear.

The faithful few, with hearts sincere,
Kept holy law and held God near.
No tangled creed, no three‑in‑one,
Their worship simple, pure, undone.

Yet distant lands and minds of lore
Brought tales of more, of myths, and more.
A mortal man made God on high,
And from that spark, confusion nigh.

The councils met in halls of stone,
Where bishops sat, yet doubts had grown.
They spoke of God, of man, of Son,
And sought a creed that all could run.

Debates were long, the voices high,
No mortal mind could grasp the sky.
Three persons said to form one Lord,
A paradox in holy word.

A man made God? Or God made man?
The question shook the faithful clan.
The scriptures strained to bear the claim,
Yet still the doctrine found its name.

And so arose a tangled thread,
Where truth and myth together wed.
The faithful followed, some unsure,
Through shifting sands, no firm allure.

The sacred texts in hands of men,
Were copied, changed, again, again.
From scroll to codex, line by line,
Some truths endured, some lost in time.

The gospels differ, tales collide,
Genealogies shift, claims divide.
Verses appear, then disappear,
A scripture woven with human fear.

Yet still they read, they kneel, they pray,
Though doubts arise with each display.
Blind faith persists, though questions grow,
The seeds of confusion start to show.

And in this haze of human hand,
The creed of three began to stand.
A mortal God, a man divine,
A tangled faith, a shaky sign.

From desert sands a voice was heard,
A truth revealed in every word.
No tangled creed, no three‑in‑one,
A single God, the only One.

The Quran came, a guiding light,
Unchanged by time, serene and bright.
Each verse a drop, an ocean deep,
A treasure hearts and souls can keep.

Its message clear, its path divine,
No paradox, no fractured line.
Tawheed declared, the One, the Pure,
A steadfast faith that shall endure.

While others wrestle, lost, confused,
With doctrines formed, then misused,
The soul finds peace in God alone,
A faith intact, a truth well known.

A God they claim is Three‑in‑One,
A creed from which no sense is spun.
Their proofs are built on shifting ground,
A claim that reason can’t expound.

They say a man of flesh and bone
Is God eternal on His throne.
A mortal man, a timeless Lord—
A truth that breaks its own accord.

The councils argued, sought to bind
The thoughts that troubled every mind.
But words like threads began to fray
And pull belief in disarray.

From fading script and human hand,
A doctrine built on fragile land.
With verses strained to bear the weight,
They fortify a broken gate.

In contrast stands the final Word,
A peaceful truth, divinely heard.
A steady flame untouched by doubt,
The soul holds fast, belief devout.

The final holy verse is read,
And peace within the heart is spread.
An ocean held in drops of ink,
That shifts the way we live and think.