We can’t forget the teen that saw death sweeter than honey,
Not one of Taghut-inspired teens chasing power and money.
His uncle wouldn’t let him, to battle, go.
Until he brought him a letter, written long ago.
It was by his elder brother, the glorious Hasan,
Advocating and supporting the cause of his son.
He was so, so calm, so much at peace.
The enemy crossed their limits, tore him apart like beasts.
The earth shattered as his eyes went close,
Hussain lost another beautiful rose.
His name and his father’s, alas, remind us of another.
Should I call him General, or Soleimani, rather?
His father’s name was too Hassan, he was too, Qassem,
He too, brought light into a world so dim.
One during the day in Karbala, one at night in Baghdad,
Both role models continue to light our path.
We will remember, we definitely will.
Al-Quds is free, and Hejaz, until.
The epic of Karbala, is unlike any other,
It’s what every Hussaini child hears in the lap of their mother.
It’s not just some event that happened long ago,
It’s what fuels revolutions, what makes them flow.
Yazid, in any age, will never ever succeed,
The guide of righteous revolutions, will be Imam Hussain’s deed.
Featured image via Sibtayn