One call,
for all,
on the land of Karbala,
that breaks the heart,
more than any word,
more than any line,
“Is there anyone to help us?”
What has Islam come to?
Where has it been lead to?
That the grandson of the Prophet calls,
“Is there anyone to help us?”
50 years later what happened?
After the Prophet (saww) what happened?
That the grandson of the Prophet calls,
“Is there anyone to help us?”
How did the truth become so sad and alone?
How did false make its way to the throne?
That the grandson of the Prophet calls,
“Is there anyone to help us?”
All the companions are gone,
All the brothers and sons are gone,
A 6 month old is gone,
What happened to the ummah that loved it’s Prophet?
That the grandson of the Prophet calls,
“Is there anyone to help us?”
The orphans are wailing.
The women are wailing.
They walk as captives,
towards Shaam wailing,
But Zaynab has just one question on her mind,
It echoes beneath and kills her each time,
That how low did people get in a span of years,
That the grandson of the Prophet called,
“Is there anyone to help us?”
Almost 1400 years later,
I see the streets of Karbala filled later,
Each cries, each martyr later,
One call makes them wail and hit themselves later,
with one question on the back of their mind each day,
that why no one replied with, “Labbaik Ya Hussain (as) then,
When the grandson of the Prophet called,
“Is there anyone to help us?”
-In5iyahA
01/10/2017
In5iyahASays 