Times stops when Husayn is struck

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Muhammad Mahdi
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Times stops when Husayn is struck

Postby Muhammad Mahdi » 13 Nov 2013, 20:41

An imagination of a talk between Jibrail and imam Husayn (as) as Shimr (la) is about to strike the fatal blow.
Divided in 3 parts.
First part is Jibrail's words to Imam
Second, Imams to jibrail
Third, Jibrail's to the Muslim ummah

I saw your men be killed one by one,
Habib, Aliakber, Muhammad and Awn,
Qasim's body destroyed by the horses,
Your followers depleted by enemy forces.

I was there when Abbas fell from his horse,
When his face was filled with remorse,
Seeing the water trickle out of the gourd,
Fallen lay the Alamdar without a sword.

You picked the flag dropped by the cut hands,
As the flag came closer Sakina told her friends,
My uncle will soon bring water for us,
Never did stop the cries of al-atash,

I saw how you picked the small Ali
Took him to the camp of the enemy,
His dried little tongue asked for a drink,
lo! Sent to his Lord before I could blink.

I heard Sakina's heart tremble in fear,
She realized those who left did not reappear,
Tears clouded her beautiful young face,
Towards you she began to race,

My eyes welled up when the last time you met,
Clutching you tightly, Sakina's cheeks wet,
You placed her on your chest to make her calm,
On your mind the journey to Shaam,

Your noble hands began to shiver,
Sakina turned her face to the river,
What if water I did no longer need,
Would they stop the terrible deed?

I saw you placed your hand on her head,
The little girl was never this sad,
You kissed Sakina the final goodbye,
Your eyes wet, your throats dry.

You went to the battlefield like Ali's son,
The enemy in all directions began to run,
They could not touch the lion of God,
Sent to hell by your blessed sword,

Stones and arrows the cowards threw,
Closer your status to Allah grew,
"Ya ayyatuhan nafsul mutma-inna" heard,
Your head went to sajdah, laid down your sword,

I raised my hands to Allah then,
Can I interrupt and save this man,
As Shimr's sword came down on your neck,
Time stops before to Allah you go back.

Can I place my wings on your neck?
So that to Zainab you may go back,
I have just witnessed the day bloodiest,
How can I anymore stay at rest?

Have patience angel please be calm
I have died thousands of deaths for the sake of Islam
Every time my shia dares to sin
It tears up my heart from within

Every salaat missed by my Shiite
Is like the cry by umr in Saad to fight
Every intoxicant that they consume
To me is like a poisonous fume

The glance of fahisha that a shia gives
Or one that the shia smilingly recieves
Is like the spear they threw at Akber
Oblivious, my shia is filled with laughter

Within themselves when then backbite
Reminds of how we didn't get any respite
The prayer of dhuhr we prayed with arrows
Haraam food the shia swallows

Tell me angel if today's pain
Is greater than when willpower is slain
When they fall to the call of the devil
When the Muslim commits acts of evil

The sadness that my family feels
Is expounded by how the shia deals
In their business when they cheat
Is there a more shameful feat ?

Any lie that they defiantly tell
From them emits a pungent smell
On Qiyamah they expect me to intercede
When from vile sins they never recede

The drugs drinks the sins of a whim
reminiscent of the death of Qasim
by hooves of horses the little body torn
Hypocritically for him they attempt to mourn

Oh Angel pass this message to my lover
The events today remember forever
Enough it is not to mourn my call
Revolutionise they must the sinful soul.

As our little talk comes to an end,
The sweat of death on Imam's forhead,
As he continually clenched and unclenched his hands,
Secretly gazing upon the caravan and tents.

Coming back the horse, the women saw,
As Shimr delivered the fatal blow,
Imam's breath became shallow and ceased,
His soul, out of his body painfully eased.

My mind traces back to The Prophet's city
Where there was mere peace, no calamity
Flashbacks of the times Imam I used to cradle
Come to mind at the sight of the riderless saddle

I fling my wings and to the heavens I return,
As the tents of Ahlulbayt begin to burn,
The day began with a beautiful sunrise,
Ends with the Ahlulbayt’s sorrowful cries

Oh shia, know this vital thing,
Husayn lives on like our king,
When you transgress, Yazid you are,
Fatimah's intercession is from you far.
The educated man has the right to manipulate the ignorant, if the ignorance of the of the ignorant is due to his own ignorance.

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