Where are your hands.. to wipe the tears they’re crying
Upon these sands… from thirst these girls are dying
Your banner stands… for Abbas it is calling
Where are your hands…
* * *
Is it the Day of Judgement?
Fires are burning your tent
They cry, holding my garment
Abbas… Abbas…
They saw your flag had fallen
Confused… they’re only children
One name by them is spoken
Abbas… Abbas…
They’re skin covered, no longer white… in ashes
Their eyes watch your tent set alight… in pieces
Running from your tent in their fright… it crashes
It cannot be… that the tent of Abbas falls
It cannot be… these Queens unguarded by walls
It cannot be…no Abbas answers their calls
Where are your hands
* * *
The last thing they remember
On his horse, their flagbearer
Leaving to bring them water
Abbas… Abbas…
“Aunty, has he not come back?
Our tongues from thirst have turned black”
They faint, resting on my back
Abbas… Abbas…
How many hands tug on my dress… O’ brother
I raise my hands, may Allah bless… them water
In the form of our courageous… flagbearer
Where are your eyes… to gaze upon our anguish
Where are your eyes… to watch the fire flourish
Where are your eyes… whose sight makes despair vanish
Where are your hands…
* * *
Could it be that your two palms
That rip apart all of our harms
Are not attached to your arms
Abbas… Abbas…
Could it be that an arrow
Has broken your sister’s bow
And blood from your eye would flow
Abbas… Abbas…
Did your body fall to the ground… it’s shaking
I hear from Hussain’s back a sound… it’s breaking
“Has our uncle Abbas been found?”… they’re asking
Lord give him wings… to fly towards these children
Lord give him wings… carrying water within
Lord give him wings… from his wings their thirst broken
Where are your hands
* * *
(London – 05/06/16)