You were killed but in your death we came alive
They don't understand why we beat our chests,
Why we weep uncontrollably, why we're so 'obsessed',
With you and your family,
You and your tragedy.
Little do they know that this so-called 'obsession',
Is none other than our greatest possession.
But anyone who loves you knows this pain,
To anyone who loves you, you don't have to explain,
That a flame was ignited by your death,
A flame that burns inside us with every breath.
You took a stand against tyranny and oppression,
Political, spiritual, and social repression.
Your philosophy was based on justice and freedom,
You didn't ask for power, just to live free from
A life of humiliation under a heartless brute,
Whose greed and manipulation is most surely the root
Of the evil today committed in Islam's name,
The evil whose perpetrators have no shame.
When I hear of the way they butchered your baby,
How they called themselves muslims, it's simply crazy.
Today we are witnessing the same depravity,
Your lovers are killed with renewed brutality.
From Kaduna to Karachi to Kabul and further,
Just as in Karbala, they carry out murder.
You were killed but in your death we came alive,
Because of you we can tell the truth from the lies.
Because of you our hearts are soft but still strong,
Because of you we know what's right from what's wrong.
Your mission was to revive your grandfather's religion,
Return the muslims to Islam, to true submission.
When I mourn for you, my soul shakes,
I feel the weight of this grief as my heart breaks.
It's as though all of my life's hopes and fears,
Are pinned to you, and now these tears
Fall down my cheeks as I hear your story,
I'm inconsolable, in awe of your glory.
How should I describe the perfect creation?
It is you, Ya Hussain, the ark of salvation.