We see in your eyes… tears of blood you cry
* * *
O’ twelfth Imam we gaze into the eyes that we’ve adored
And see, illustrated, pictures from which your tears have poured
Daily you recall broken ribs, poison, arrows and sword
Your eyes bear such a weight that blood from your veins it has lured
Daily you’re taunted… by tales haunted
* * *
Your grief has left a road to history, which we follow
We see, upon a woman’s grief, left a house of sorrow
She mourns her father, a river of tears draws her shadow
A withered rose when once in her father’s hand she would grow
She cries and laments… sorrowful moments
* * *
I wonder what picture would make blood from your two eyes pour
Could it be seeing, daily, the attack on your mother?
The witnesses to this O’ Mehdi, in your eyes are four:
The mother and the crushed infant between the wall and door
A distress, endless… daily you witness
* * *
Beyond what you see, daily O’ Mehdi you hear thunder
The sound of the strike of the sword on the head of Haider
The deafening call “Islam’s pillars are destroyed” you hear
You tell this voice, your heart demolishes which each pillar
With each pillar crushed… your wailing is hushed
* * *
I watch the blood that trickles from the torment of your eyes
And see, that for a forgotten uncle, your eye, it cries
Alone, abandoned, forgotten and poisoned, Hassan dies
You remember him when your eyes, not a single hand dries
Weeps for you, Hassan… like you, an orphan
* * *
Whilst the tears of your eyes dry up and take from your bloodstream
Into your hands O’ last orphan the tears of mothers stream
Layla wails over Ali Akbar in a harsh dream
Rabab burns out a candle crying out “O’ my Jassim”
And Ramla wails… swaying a cradle
* * *
You’re thirsty for your lovers as the days like decades pass
The blood you have to cry, all the tragic tales surpass
You come to drink water and your hand shakes holding its glass
“May God have His mercy upon my uncle Al Abbas”
You hear him daily… “forgive me Ali”
* * *
I ask you O’ grieving loner of the root of your pain
Alone he lies, fallen, whilst none of his household remain
Your eyes behind the clouds cause tears of blood to, on him, rain
They cry, “this headless, trampled body belongs to Hussain”
Upon your beloved… you cry tears of blood
* * *
Grief grips your body like poison, as if stories you’ve heard
As if it’s heard tales of Baqir, Sadiq and Sajjad
Could it be that fate says you’ll come but go against its word?
Just like it released Kathom as a body in Baghdad
Poisoned hearts wander… if you’ll come ever
* * *
Mehdi you find yourself a stranger wherever you stand
You weep for Ridha killed as a stranger in a strange land
Could it be that age tortures you like tide eats away sand?
You recall Jawad poisoned in his youth by tyrant’s hand
* * *
Millions ask where you reside, into nights you’ve faded
Where did you stand when the two Askaris’ dome exploded?
Mehdi what else could have your thousand-year absence ended?
Daily Baqi’ cries out your name begging to be mended
Even broken graves… your return they crave
* * *
I watch the sun rise, daily, asking if, you, it will bring
And find the fate of your return weaved deep in my being
I thank my Lord that the Ahlulbayt are my everything
I tell Him for my last beloved, my eyes are still waiting
Bearing such a weight… your rise we await
* * *
(London – 05/07/13)