By our mothers we were fed… courage and honour
Our blood is not worth your tears… we leave as martyrs
Today we’re reborn
Let our mothers mourn
* * *
You the symbol to hope that’s a flickering flame
Painted in awe and surrounded by honour’s frame
Life’s lessons lie riddled in letters of your name
And with each breath of them our desires they tame
To be of your blessed movement will be our fame
And we shall live in its shadow, no fear nor shame
With each breath and beat of blood… recalled is this cause
Our demise it be answered… by cries or applause
This badge we have worn
Let our mothers mourn
* * *
Obedience in our mothers’ milk we were fed
So our veins with fortitude and valour were thread
And our mothers raised us to within fear’s path tread
So at wrong we charge like lions, no fear nor dread
Our mothers’ tears our melody as we are led
Toward our deaths, the young and old, single and wed
The unmarried in their eyes… march toward their bride
As with death comes their reward… with spirit and pride
For this we were born
Let our mothers mourn
* * *
Today each man replaces dress with his own shroud
And pays his debts with his own wounds, all that he’d vowed
The angels peer, down to earth on star and on cloud
The final act on this grand stage, watches this crowd
Yet it won’t end, till each man before death has bowed
And it soothes him with eternal sleep and so proud
The shroud that we’ve slept upon… to remember death
Now we stain it with our blood… and yearn our last breath
Death’s shadow we’ve worn
Let our mothers mourn
* * *
What are bodies for you unless with wounds ridden
Hardship follows your lovers an endless burden
Yet with each wound, that sings your love, the hearts broaden
And in the face of evil’s vice the chests harden
When our wounds bleed, don’t let tears flow, do not sadden
We march through swords, yet we end in the Lord’s garden
No not from the cup of death… does our journey end
By the scent of Heaven’s fruits… our own wounds we mend
Each wound but a thorn
Let our mothers mourn
* * *
No man can dare question the fortitude we hold
When our futures lay strewn upon the desert’s fold
Our lives we gift toward your hand, these lives you hold
Our destinies, aspirations are yours to mould
Our dreams answer when of our deaths we are foretold;
Let our wounds seep our blood and dreams for this Household
He who questions our content… then let him listen
If we are brought back to life… may we die again
Our blood we adorn
Let our mothers mourn
* * *
The flags we hold are circled by the Universe
And our last steps with the angel of death converse
Our shrouds shall be the weeping dust, as we immerse
In a lone death, with but death’s wind for us a hearse
This sacrifice, is but Act 1, as we rehearse
For the Mehdi’s return who shall act on this verse
Hussain come to us and sleep… beneath this sweet dust
For avenge shall 313… in Mehdi put trust
This hope we have worn
Let our mother’s mourn
* * *
(London – 27/05/11)