Between the Two Children

Between the two children… the thirst and fire burn
This is Asghar and Mohsin complaining to each-other

* * *

Beneath a night in Medina… a house on fire burns
Beneath a noon in Karbala… for help a father turns
A mother protects her child… and for her father she yearns
Whilst another mother cries out… “make sure my son returns”

One lies within a womb… one’s thirst calls out his tomb
Approaches the sweetest of souls, the harshest of horror

* * *

Two children too young to speak… united in their pain
One in the womb of Zahra… one in arms of Hussain
If Mohsin cries to Asghar… “of my state I complain”
Asghar cries back to Mohsin… “come and look at my vein”

Two casualties of war… the war against Allah
Too young and too innocent to experience slaughter

* * *

“O’ Asghar I had suffered… before I had been born
Before I’d seen my mother… from Zahra I was torn
To burn the house of my mother… an oppressor had sworn
He pushed the door against her chest… and murdered a newborn

I felt a vicious blow… my tears with her blood flow
A child and mother torn before she was a mother”

* * *

Asghar with his tears replies…. “brother, I was thirsty
My father took me in his arms… toward the enemy
All I had wanted was water… I felt something hit me
Till a child soaked in his blood… my father would carry

My blood flowed from within… crying, what was my sin?
I sip from an arrow, I wanted a sip of water”

* * *

“O’ Asghar, in my eyes torture… the torture of Zahra
I tell you were there no nail… there’d be no Karbala
Between the door and wall they crushed… Muhammad’s own daughter
And I watched Muhammad’s flower… in fire she’d wither

This rose, a hand crushes… her house became ashes
I watched the patience of my mother burn within fire”

* * *

“O’ Mohsin, your words make me weep… what a calamity
But Fatima would cry with me… if her beloved she’d see
He stands alone crying to wind… will anyone help me?
O’ Mohsin, my beloved father… headless they would bury

The house of Zahra cries… with her child’s demise
She forgets the rib and fire and weeps in Karbala”

* * *

(London – 24/03/14)

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