Time After Time

My love not bound by time… you’ll find me in all times
Being drawn to his grave… walking time after time
However the Earth spins… whatever time we’re in
Only one love calls me… and you’ll find me beside him

* * *

Whatever the clock points to… whatever year books write to…
You’ll find me lost in pages of Karbala’s history
A book rich with golden dust… while blood from its pages gushed…
Fourteen hundred years of pain, courage, killing and glory
Even if I were present… before Christ by ten-thousand…
I’d seek the land of Kar Bel and upon its dust I’d pray
Though there would not be a grave… it’s soil I would still crave…
For its soil would still recite details of his story

Were I born before man… I’d still know of this land
I’ll cross Earth just so on… its soil I could stand
Karbala calls my name… I feel it in the wind
Only one love calls me… and you’ll find me beside him

* * *

Were time unkind toward me… and for reasons beyond me…
I did not hear the call of Hussain to cry out ‘Labbayk’
Alongside Bani Assad… I’d ensure the first tears shed…
Upon his grave were from my own eyes for my Master’s sake
I’d help guide Jaber the blind… I’d learn from him and recite…
Peace be upon the one whose thirst makes the Heavens shake
I’d be beside Mukhtar… we’d circle him together…
And build a dome above him for which millions shall ache

A sight to cure the blind… his first glorious shrine
I’d stand there by his door… writing rhyme after rhyme
My hand touching his grave… that fresh stone on my skin
Only one love calls me… and you’ll find me beside him

* * *

Were it later, I would sit… beside Jafar Al-Sadiq…
And hear hadith after hadith about that holy land
He’d say that every footstep… has Hajj and Umra in it
Hadith so great, those that narrate them were perceived as mad
No, no, it wasn’t easy… but he pushed it anyway…
Even when there was fear of death and Ziyarat was banned
My truth faith only God knows… but I wish I were of those…
That had no left hand to be cut so had offered their right hands

Does history not see… how great this hate must be
They’d punish the pilgrim… like they’d punish the thief
They can take all they want… they can take limb and limb
However the Earth spins… whatever time we’re in
Only one love calls me… and you’ll find me beside him

* * *

Seeking Heaven during Hell… in the time of Mutawakel…
Where pilgrims could be killed just by not hiding their movement
We would hide beneath daylight… and walk carefully by night…
No threat of death can deter me from living that moment
We’d reach, feeling desert cold… Karbala – they destroyed it all…
The only way to find his grave was to search for his scent
We’d find it, we’d lament… his shrine torn down and burnt
Seeing this or denied its sight, what’s a greater torment?

I would give my whole world… to see his shrine rebuilt
With a glorious dome… that stars themselves circle
Denied sight or seeing… which is the greater pain?
Only one love calls me… and you’ll find me beside him

* * *

One thousand years after Christ… I’d love to see in my eyes
Karbala rise up to be a beacon of a city
This is the town that tells men… it matters not we’re your from…
When you enter my gates your heritage becomes from me
I see me visit and I… realize Karbala is life…
And build a house to live in my beloved’s vicinity
I’d help build his first dharih… I’d help build markets, schools there…
With my people our processions would be sights of beauty
No doubt the sweetest home… is built beside his dome…
And in his sweet service his pilgrims we would serve

To serve in times timeless… what is sweet than this?
How honoured I would be… to live in such pure bliss
And on his Arbaeen… in their thousands we’d come
Only one love calls me… and you’ll find me beside him

* * *

O’ land, O’ city of blood… how much blood seeps in your dust…
I wonder if it rests on sand or on waves of bodies
Twelve-thousand Wahabi men… with flags of Yazid waving…
Stormed God’s city killing four-thousand Karbala natives
Our Master’s shrine they’d plunder… no mercy, no surrender…
You’d see pregnant women killed, on their stomachs fetuses
What a visit that would be… stepping over dead bodies…
Wading through blood to see dead bodies cling to his dharih

When Ottomans lost rule… they’ve invade and kill all
In the city of death… butchered five-thousand souls
In the city of God… they dwelled in the worst sins
Only one love calls me… and you’ll find me beside him

* * *

Just as He revives Hussain… God allows tyrants to reign…
I see Mutawakel brought back to life when Saddam reigns
I hope that I’d risk my life… walking in those countrysides…
On Arbaeen when if seen I face execution
I salute Imam Sadiq… just for sanctifying it…
And not denying us our beloved when we could be slain
It’s as if death humours us… and our Master laughs with us…
When that tyrant says, “you are Hussain and I am Hussain!”

I swear that until death… if yearns me my last breaths
I’ll visit him smiling… at the Angel of Death
How many gave their lives… just for a mere visit?
Only one love calls me… and you’ll find me beside him

* * *

God keep safe Hussain’s city… whatever time it may be…
On his Arbaeen his loves will come in defiance
Year after year I’ll be there… even if there is no air…
I’ll hold my breath and head out, in Allah my reliance
When dead, I’ll still yearn its taste… and rise up out of my grave…
Just for a few days, to bask in Hussain’s magnificence
My soul is bound to his shrine… our love transcends space and time…
Karbala is eternal, for its bound with his triumph

Allah is merciful… Karbala, eternal
Allah created time… but told it, ‘don’t follow’
It exists beyond time… all else exists within
Only one love calls me… and you’ll find me beside him

* * *

(London – 13/10/18)

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