Why do I feel heartbroken, frightened and tense?
It’s as if I hear screaming and smell burning tents
It’s as if my master Imam Mehdi laments
* * *
It’s as if the Heavens have been shrouded in black
It’s as if Muhammad’s son has a broken back
It’s as if the foundations of Mecca have cracked
The light of God surrounded, by devils attacked
It’s as if love itself was surrounded by men
And they slashed and stabbed at it until it was gone
Scattered on the plains of Taf, love is but remnants
* * *
It’s as if smoke covers the Earth, and all turns dark
As if all has flooded and men destroyed the Ark
Curse be on the hand that lit the tents with a spark
And on the cheek of Ruqaya left a red mark
I see women crying, cloaked as if they’re statues
Turned to stone by sorrow, here on Karbala’s dunes
As they’re charred and ruined by the smoke of the tents
* * *
It’s as if the moon is now broken into two
And watching, the daughters cry: “Abbas where are you?
We watched the enemies flee as your sword you drew
But they said your flag fell, O’ Uncle is this true?
They said that they tore your hand away from your wrist
When we saw your flag fell, all hope ceased to exist
And Ruqaya prostrated with her small back bent”
* * *
It’s as if Hussain cries out, “Allahu akbar,
O’ Lord help me pull this spear out from my Akbar”
His hand gripped on the spear as nothing else matters
As he pulls he hears the ribs of his son shatter
With a broken heart I hear his trembled voice cry:
“How many ribs must I see break in one lifetime?”
As blood flows from the last remnant of Ahmed’s scent
* * *
It’s as if when we cry, we hear the Mahdi cry
And we lament beneath his loving, watchful eye
The chests beaten to rhythm, and if they ask why
Say that the crushed chest of Hussain needs an ally
And as we beat our chests, with us Mahdi beats his
And he joins us praying for his reappearance
And upon the blood of Hussain he’ll take revenge
* * *
(Dearborn – 27/07/22)