Sunday, December 4, 2011

Ashura

The tenth dawn of Islam's new year,
Seventy-two of the bravest who had nothing to fear,
Came out to battle for our pride,
Knowing that the journey to Heaven would be their very next ride.

On the blistering sands, under the scorching sun,
Stood the mighty Hussein, a soldier second to none,
With the fragrance of musk, it had to be said,
The skies of Karbala were already turning red.

Every ally wanted the honor of being first,
To drink the honey of paradise and quench their thirst,
As each one's body fell on the sand and mud,
It was Ashura, the day the skies wept blood.

A marriage in the tent during this grieving hour,
Abdullah knew that the time was not far,
In the attire of a groom, He set out to fight,
Realizing the loss, Sakina cried throughout that night..

Abbas did not even drink a sip from the river,
But was hit by arrows from the trees' rear,
Hussein's final support ascended to the heavens,
It was now only Hussein and those inhumane devils.

But, Ali Akbar, the very valiant youngster the world has seen,
Was hit in the heart during the pinnacle of His teens,
The face of the Prophet (SA) with blood was smeared,
Hussein's tears completely drenched His beard.

Asgar, the courageous six month old prince,
Fought for Islam's pride without hesitance,
Until that heartless satan let his arrow fly,
Young Ali Asgar's blood was taken by the sky.

Hussein ibn Ali, the Noble Son, and The Greatest Martyr,
Stood ready to fight with absolutely no fear,
Until a teary eyed Jibrael descended from the Heavens,
Allah's wish is Your sacrifice Oh Highborn Eminence.

Hussein happily welcomed Allah's Missive,
Bowed down to Sajdah for the future billions,
Zainab, cried aloud at the sight of Her mind's eye,
Upon witnessing Her imperial brother peacefully die.

Princess Sakina with Her cheeks so blue,
From all the slapping that mad man put Her through,
Those hellion's horses were allowed to run,
And on the Holy Bodies, further damage was done.

Tears roll down my cheeks as I pen these verses,
Remembering the pain of Hussein and His masses,
But if it wasn't for Hussein we wouldn't be where we are,
We wouldn't be Mumins, our faith would be sour.

Maula Mohammad (TUS), you're the Dai of Hussein,
My guidance, my leader, and my chieftain,
May you live for years, till the Day of Judgment,
I am your slave, that's my life's biggest achievement.