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Frustration
The day of dread
has come, And my heart remains light O the guilt of it, Have I not been blessed with a heart? Does it not beat?The suns shines invitingly, Obscuring the sea of Hussain's blood, Shed on this fateful day. The harder I try to remember, The emptier I feel. Hussain who were you? I cant understand the pain, And I amble through this day, numb,numb,numb A silent spectator Haplessly caught in the torrent Of wailing and weeping. If I was a part of you, I would claw my face with grief, My hair would turn white, My eyes, cry blood, And my heart would burn. Instead I write this poem, Trying desparately to prove That I love you. O Hussain I cant begin to understand the pain, I am no mother, Who could picture her dying son, A sister yes! But of Zainab's calibre?
I am merely a beggar Who has stumbled onto your stage, Yearning for what is with you, But grasping only elusive air. So take pity on my most miserable state, The one who cannot cry for you, Is truly wretched, And out of sheer astonishment, For my situation, Allow me to Shed a single tear, And let it flow Over my grateful cheeks.
