In shame I have bowed my head
The Master of Martyrs, I’ve yet to visit
By Hussayn, I have lived and learned
In the flame of his existence, I burn
Yet his shrine remains unknown to me
The birds above him are found more worthy
His shrine is my home in these holy nights
My heart is far and awaits his sacred invite
A gathering of hearts is being hosted
I am left behind like a soldier wounded
I will sacrifice anything for this
A whole lifetime of joy and bliss
If it means my death on his holy road
Or my last breath at the gates of his holy dome
If he is my master and I am his servant
Then what kind of servant won’t he let visit?
Yet I serve him because I know of his mercy
And every year, he blesses me with his ceremonies
So somehow even from afar, he let me in
I came and saw the horrors done to his holy kin
Come see… come see… even if you have already
What Karbala has done to the Prophet’s family
A young girl is paraded in desert and fear
Above her is her father’s head on a spear
She is in chains and is beaten
So she looks at the heavens
“O’ Zahraa, I have your bruises!
Does this mean death toward me rushes?”
She walks and speaks silently to her father
Never looking at what is above her
Her tears are quick to dry on the sand
This sun’s heat is too much to withstand
She silences her cries when they whip her
She knows her aunt Zaynab is under pressure
She holds her hijab tightly around her head
“O’Father, come see what they did!
O Father, come see me and let me see you
By the right of Fatima, I want to come too”
Come see… come see… even if you have already
What they did to Ruqaya and how she was set free
A woman in court is fierce and zealous
Her voice alone will lift Khybar’s fortress
Her hijab is her steel and iron armor
You wouldn’t know if it was her or Haydar
You wouldn’t know she had just been hit
Or that her two sons were just martyred
You won’t see her fall apart and crumble
Her heart has held tight onto the firmest handle
What is in her heart for her to remain steady?
Her beloved Imam is beheaded mercilessly
Her brothers, sons, and nephews, all killed
But her voice is unshaken, breath uninterrupted
In battle, she sits next to her Imam-breathless
“O Allah please accept this sacrifice from us.”
In Kufa, she reminds those with empty promises
Of who her brother, mother, father, and grandfather is
Of the greatest mistake to ever make
And that is to leave Wilayah for comforts’ sake
Come see… come see… even if you have already
How Zaynab is the reason for Hussayn’s victory
On the path to Hussayn, you will see a mother
Who has no more sons left to offer
Her entire motherhood thrived off martyrdom
Her selfless Abbas is proof of her wisdom
She saw the grace that comes with serving
The honor that comes with death and suffering
When she asks and begs, “What about Hussayn?”
She confirms she gave everything before he is slain
She ensures all that she had is now given
Nothing is worth having if the Imam has fallen
The woman who is a mother to no sons
Will assist you in giving with no question
The mother of Abbas is your teacher
Her hijab is the flag her son raised higher
Follow her and she will know your name
In you, she will set the love of Hussayn aflame
She will teach you his love should come first
And that it is his thirst before your thirst
Come see… come see… even if you have already
Who Ummul Baneen gave away to her Imam freely
The planes of Karbala have a crimson hue
From the blood of Hussayn they create morning dew
How has the world watched Hussayn fall thirsty?
Near a river that begs for his forgiveness and mercy
He prepares his women and children
For a journey he knows won’t include him
On the ground and ready to be slaughtered
Is it his mother or his sister on the hill anchored
“Is there no defender to defend our sanctity?
Is there no one who will respond to me?”
These words are for what we cry and wail
And for why our tears will resist and prevail
In his his farewell to those crying for water
“Be patient and forbear my dear daughter”
Bi Rabbil Ka’ba, his success is that of Ali’s
And he takes his final breath knowing God sees
His eyes on the tents and says, “O’ Allah, my family
O’ Allah, don’t let them touch their holy bodies”
Come see… come see… even if you have already
How they placed on a spear, the head of Hussayn Ibn Ali
All comfort is forsaken for the Imam’s victory
If not, then in your regret lies your misery
To be a bystander, a watcher, a forfeiter
Who left my Imam and followed my own desire
Is the worst hell and the worst prison
Because how do you escape your actions?
Karbala is now and there is war on truth
God has already clarified it for our holy youth
They know truth is on the side of the oppressed
And it is they who will see that glowing success
Whether or not you’ve made your path Wilayah
It’s the path taking you to the freedom you’re after
It’s the path your Imam has called you for
The one he expects you to die for with fervor
The Hussayn is here now and his Muslim has come
Which of us made promises we have yet to back up?
The Imam is waiting for our hearts to awaken
So not one more sin or one more transgression
This is it, we have all seen what happens
When we sit with our hands in our laps
Come see… come see… even if you have already
What holy slaughter takes place when we sit idly
