The Killing (Al-Maqtal)

I beg you Shimr, don’t sever his head
Bring your sword to me and take mine instead

He sits on his chest, and watches Zainab run
Beside her brother no brothers & no-one
“Is there any to help me?” No there is none
In her hopelessness to her brother she fled

She screams to Shimr,” leave my brother alone
The arrows cutting him for his pain atone
The cuts on his body have reached his bone
And the dust weeps for holding the blood he’s bled”

“Leave him alone, maybe he’ll reawaken
You sit on his chest whilst his back is broken”
His eyes watch Zainab by her grief stricken
He watches her as he severs Hussain’s head

She sits by him massacred by his absence
His body is here but where is his presence?
Everything is broken, except his silence
And nothing was left of him unless it bled

She screams as if her soul from her body leaps
“My brother in a river of his blood sleeps”
She slaps her head so hard that for her he weeps
As his severed head towards a spear is led

“O’ head I once adored in awe of its height
O’ head that once embarrassed the moon’s night
O’ head, not only are your girls left in fright
They see your head placed on a spear, drenched blood-red

As if massacring you wasn’t enough
And neither was tearing these girls’ hearts in half
We watch the spear that holds your holy head laugh
So today’s grief would match yesterday’s bloodshed

My eye scarred by seeing your head on a spear
The tears I cry are blood, tortures me each tear
I see the lion that other lions fear
With a severed neck into a spear embed

If you don’t care for him, care for his children
At least let this head from their eyes be hidden
You torment the little hearts of each orphan
Telling them, to Shimr’s sword, Hussain was fed”

They killed her brother and left him with no shroud
They raise his head, and raise it as if they’re proud
Taking his women captive before a crowd
And curse his father as to Yazid they head

“O’ grandfather two of him were torn apart
O’ grandfather his head from body they’d part
O’ grandfather nothing would have soothed his heart
Except your kiss upon his holy forehead

O’ grandfather, killed with no-one beside him
He looked to the distance, and saw only them
The silence of the wind sang a painful hymn
Telling him you’re alone and alone you tread

If my father knows just how we are treated
How is a spear with my brother’s head weighted
Indeed the sword my brother’s blood defeated
But we’re left to fight this sword’s vengeance and dread

O’ lion of battle, to which battle crawls
O’ catcher of the flag if, ever, it falls
We’re left paraded in Yazid’s courts and halls
Through torture, death & pain, these women I’ve lead”

After they steal his head as they wail
They take her captive and his Zainab they steal
Leaving, in her, a wound only he could heal
After they killed him, her brother they’d behead

* * *

(London – 02/10/13)

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