Ashura Procession Of Mourning. Poem by Margery Rehman

Comes the procession, swaying, winding
Through the ancient cobbled streets
A thousand drums in unison pounding
Knells of mournful, throbbing beat.

Robed in black, black standards waving,
In stately columns the mourners tread.
Weeping penitents, heartfelt grieving
For the massacred, innocent dead.

Hands beat chests, relentless thudding,
Metronomic, persistent,
Hollow sounding, blood pulsating
In a litany of lament.

Chains of knives whip downwards flashing
The flagellants' blood spurts and spills
Soft flesh torn, sacrificial scourging
They circle in a frenzied whirl

Chanting over and again:
'Let us share his grief and pain
Let our blood flow like our slain
Beloved martyr, brave Hussain.'