The fragrance of paradise still radiates from the martyrs on the sands of Karbala, the sorrow is still fresh in the heart of the mourners, the eyes still water endless tears upon the grieving eulogies and there is one who cries blood on the plains of Karbala in remembrance of his grandfather. He awaits in a state of grieving to hear the call to avenge the blood of these martyrs.
The mind travels to the plains of Karbala, the image is that of dust settling after the galloping of horses. The air clears and cries of the Women echoes on the plains of Karbala. The tents have burnt, the children have suffered, the household has been looted. In the darkness of the night their home is the blood stained sands of Karbala. Nearby a Lady has taken up the duty of her brave brother and keep vigilant in the blackness of the night with a broken spear in her hand, while on the battlegrounds of Karbala upon a headless body a Lady laments. This is Karbala, the land of Marytrdom.
The sun dawns and the Household are shackled with chains to embark on the journey to Kufa and Shaam. With hardships suffered and sorrows embraced they return to Karbala, the place where it all began. The place where now angels dwell on the earthly paradise. Deep in grief they pay their salutation to the Master of Martyrs and his companions. Upon the arrival, the women scatter to the graves of their beloveds, Umme Laila turns to her youthful Akbar, Rahbab sings a mournful lullaby to her Asgher, Umme Farwa speaks to the pieces of Qasim and my Imam shares the hardship of Shaam with the Master of Marytrs.
Karbala is left behind, Medina comes into sight. Umme Kulthum looks at the glowing city and recites an eulogy. The Caravan has come empty handed, the youth and the men massacred on the plains of Karbala, the women taken prisoners and dragged in the palaces and bazaars. The Household of Fatima [sa] was empty now, the light of Fatima [sa] was beheaded, the reflection of the Prophet [pbuh] was martyred, the sign of Hasan [as] was cut into pieces, the little soldier of Rahbab was pierced!
The days of this great tragedy remain numbered for this year, if life continues we may live to renew this allegiance again. If we leave this abode then accept this as our last salutations O Imam!
O Caravan of Kerbala I'm joining you....
O Caravan of Kerbala I'm joining you..
May my unholy blood be shed for you
O caravan of Kerbala Im done using you
Its time for me to learn from you
Whenever I feel I need help I think of you
O Caravan of Kerbala I dream of you
That one day like the turkish slave I will find you
And enraptured in my love for Hussain
I will bleed like you
O Caravan of Kerbala I'll walk with you
Walk on those plains of sorrow
Cut myself from the world
Embrace the beauty of Marytrdom
Wear the cloak of death
End with you.
O Caravan of Kerbala I'm joining you..
May my unholy blood be shed for you
O caravan of Kerbala Im done using you
Its time for me to learn from you
Whenever I feel I need help I think of you
O Caravan of Kerbala I dream of you
That one day like the turkish slave I will find you
And enraptured in my love for Hussain
I will bleed like you
O Caravan of Kerbala I'll walk with you
Walk on those plains of sorrow
Cut myself from the world
Embrace the beauty of Marytrdom
Wear the cloak of death
End with you.
I would like to thank Peace for her words as they were the inspiration for me to pen this poem. It is my first attempt! :)
salam
the poetry was good for a first attempt, but the prose before it was absolutely beautiful. this piece of writing was almost a poem in itself.
well done.