Land of Dreams

The whispers of the heart cry out at night,
And the soul, trapped within, wishes for flight,
To soar, fly and hold the Ka’abah in its sight,
And know with certainty that all the dreams were right,
To unite with the races in proclaiming His Might,
And be present at the land of dreams, the holy site.

The eyes are filled, with glistening tears,
The body senses that Zahra’s grave nears,
In the garden of Baqee the slaves throw aside all fears,
Sending the blessed salutations, all doubt clears,
Brought to tears with memories of echoes of enemy jeers,
In this land of dreams, Rasul’s footsteps echo in the ears.

The duty of love calls and the heart can no longer feign:
It must go and witness the moment of injustice’s reign,
And deal with the tragedy and The Family’s pain,
Which happened on the tenth of Muharram at Karbala’s plain,
Where the visitors reach out, and for a glimpse of his grave, strain,
In the land of dreams, the land that holds Hussain.

The gathering clouds in the sky make the landscape bleak;
And realization dawns that this journey is not for the weak,
Only those who have left and the abandoned prince seek,
Who realized what it means to be a stranger, alone and meek,
The yearnings of the heart through silent tears leak;
To witness the land of dreams, to cry at Ridha’s side for a week.

Beyond the fences and treaties that lie,
And where millions are left to die,
Where tanker for stone is considered an eye for an eye,
The place Rasul stopped on his journey to heaven high,
And whose tale of oppression will make you sigh,
To the land of dreams, Al Quds for whose freedom I cry.

To witness these lands, the believer’s eye gleams,
And with love for this family, the empty soul teems,
Which love on the garment of piety forms the seams,
On whose basis of criterion, people will be divided into teams,
One who has visited them can’t get enough it seems,
For these are the lands of love and tears, the lands of dreams.