The voice of Hussain has not ended… and Hussain was not defeated
Yes, his throat may have been cut… but through it, his soul ascended
*
If all the pens used up their ink… if all words spoke what his words spoke
They would not match a drop of blood… bled by the fifth of the cloak
His soul may leave a severed neck… but it is tyrants who choke
When his women were put in chains… the chains of the oppressed broke
Hussain’s blood spoke a thousand truths… as falsehood battled oppressed folk
Hussain made one stand of justice… and justice everywhere awoke
The blood of Hussain alone would stand… and embarrassed thirty-thousand
It faced dust and blood and fire… but through it, his soul ascended
*
The Lord of Hussain wanted justice… to topple injustice’s throne
In Hussain He manifested… His justice into flesh and bone
And what justice, Hussain’s father… owned not more than a beggar owned
His grandfather sat not on thrones… when by the Heavens he was known
Allah wanted justice to bleed… for justice not to be unknown
Allah wanted justice to weep… surrounded, thirsty and alone
Allah wanted justice to hold… in his arms a dead six-month-old
Yes, he threw his blood to the sky… but through it, his soul ascended
*
It is well known that Hussain’s blood… in its courage, shattered the sword
Much like Marhab’s head was shattered… by his father, Lion of God
The lion cub of Ahmed’s words… “except love I ask no reward”
With his blood and with our love… against thousands charged onward
Glory to God, his blood was armed… like armies, from his neck it poured
Yazid was armed with swords and spears… while Hussain was armed with his Lord
Hussain was love armoured with love… arrows rained on love from above
Arrow pinned armour to his bone… but through it, his soul ascended
*
I saw a man left surrounded… the world against him from all sides
He remembered Hussain alone… and for his beloved he cried
I saw a woman without aid… it’s as if chivalry had died
She raised her head, she kept it high… in Hussain’s stand she would confide
I saw people throughout ages… refuse to bow, refuse to hide
For Hussain is far from long gone… the oppressed take him as their pride
The sun of Hussain does not set… it’s kept afloat by the tears wept
Yes, his wounds and his severed neck… but through it, his soul ascended
*
By the arrows that struck his chest… by the back left broken and bent
We shall embody his justice… when all justice is absent
By the hands of Abbas, his flag… by the children that would lament
We shall seek to quench the thirsty… water to them we shall present
By the crushed body of Hussain… and by the burning of his tents
The smoke of their fire rises… and we smell it till this moment
We all shall mourn for Ashura… and use that pain for our master
To fight his fight, for yes, he fell… but through it, his soul ascended
*
London – 13/09/19