imagine

I.H.A.S.

Heat upon the head so hot,
The light that strikes like a clout.
Dried up tounge pricking as a thorn,
Armour so harsh piking around.

Alone he went,
As he was left.
Least he walked,
As he was crowned.

Wielding a sword in his arm,
Bearing a heart with trust filled in god,
He rode alone in the crowd.

Standing against the numerous one,
He sat alone on the ride.
Wielding the sword in his arm,
His courage fought along his side.

The man that angels cherrished,
The soul that knew no bad.
The son that was always a pride,
And the father that had his son died.

Is all alone on the ground by his self.

In his eyes beared a spark of beast,
With his sword swinging as a claw so swift.

Alone he weighed heavy upon others,
Bashing several others from his route.
May god have mercy on the gracious,
May god have ease on his soul.

Leaving behind the trace of wailers,
He was left behind in shreads.
May god have mercy on the gracious,
May god have mercy on his way.

Zainab Fatima.