Garden of Karbala
In the dark of night the music begins
And the ecstatic wind swirls around
Like a sufi, swirling around love.
As of Hussain, noose patiently waits,
For another Hussain to descend.
Like the garden of Karbala I see
Blood, the rivers cry, mountains wail,
Trees sob, in unison narrate their tragedies.
The little girl peeps through half open door, with courage she winks and smiles
Blood drops from her nose, a bullet in her chest,
As a mother protecting a child in her lap
She protects the bullet, another bullet hits her
She falls into the lap of Mother earth.
And the music continues to the hearing ears
The wounds heal, the tragedy forgotten,
The boy follows the little girl, smilingly I see him march towards heaven.
O You Beloved of Beloved, you are omnipresent
The tattered fragments lie shattered
Like the pieces of a broken mirror.
You are the saviour, grant peace and solace
To the people, Your Beloved did dwell among us
For His sake… heal the lands.
Poet can be mailed at firstname.lastname@example.org.