They say seeing is believing… and my eyes are still not seeing (a sight my eyes are refusing?)
The conquerer of Khaybar over his beloved lamenting
* * *
The Lord of all blessed me with sight… so that what I see I believe
What I can’t see I have faith in… for surely with faith comes relief
And yet what I see lies to me… as if by sight I’ve been deceived
I see the killer of Marhab… crouched in a corner as he grieves
Could it be that Hunayn’s hero… sits there crouched as his tears would flow?
Never had I imagined the lion of God weeping, grieving
* * *
The seven Heavens are silent… upon its edge angels are perched
They’re staring at Haider Ali… in a corner, alone, he’s crouched
They’re asking, what happened to him… the heart of Karrar has been crushed
It’s because when washing Zahra… her broken rib his finger touched
When in the heat of the battle… he would make enemies wail
And now here he is, holding his knees and alone he is crying
* * *
I wonder, should I be grateful… with all that my two eyes have seen
They had never witnessed those men… burn the house of revelation
My ears had never heard Zahra… cry out such a heart breaking scream
When struck, she cries out “Ya Fitha”… as blood from the purest womb streams
Should I be grateful that my eyes… did not witness Zahra’s demise
Did not witness Zahra the Lady of Light’s divine light fading
* * *
My eyes still just cannot believe… when their hands struck his beloved
He did not head to Saqifa… and come back bathed within their blood
But the Prophet told him ‘patience’… patience even before yourself
And patience is his only friend… his Prophet and wife beneath dust
Even patience looks at Ali… and it asks him, Ali, really?
You are here burying Zahra, while all of them are still living
* * *
Carrying all that he once loved… upon his shoulders her coffin
And the dead that he walks upon… from his wails they awaken
How difficult are goodbyes… greater than Khaybar this burden
He sprinkles dust upon her light… the queen of women is hidden
Farewell to Fatima Zahra… as from the skies falling are stars
Haider Ali wonders just how he will carry on living
* * *
Ali did not bury Zahra… he buried the purest of light
And we are now left in darkness… with not even her grave in sight
We mourn her every so often… he mourned her the rest of his life
By the time he finished her grave… his beard from grief had become white
Her light won’t be lost forever… we wait for it to reappear
Alongside her grandson the Mehdi, who we are all awaiting
* * *
(London – 26/12/20)