I found the bodies scattered in Karbala… their broken souls returned to their Creator
* * *
The view that met my eyes I could not forget
This dry sand with my children’s blood was now wet
Their torn souls faded away with the sunset
And I saw the tents were ablaze with fire
* * *
Their holy skin had been cut up by the sword
The blood of patience and virtue had been poured
The wails and cries of children were ignored
Tears and blood were stained on the hands of Shimr
* * *
And my eyes saw something that made my soul ache
Abbas’s body was shattered by the lake
As I stood near him I felt my two hands shake
And by him the last remnants of the water
* * *
After him the children still cried out in thirst
Abdullah the baby had suffered the worst
From the veins of his small neck the blood had burst
I remembered my son Mohsen the martyr
* * *
The door once crushed me and shattered my rib cage
My killers slapped me with anger and with rage
The end of me also ended my son’s age
And I was the first victim of Karbala
* * *
(London – 16/01/09)