I woke up this morning and as I lay in my bed,
I had a sinking feeling about all those who lay dead.
The following words came to me as a tear rolled down my cheek,
For the mother, the child, the father and brother I weep:
Oh God, I am alone in a storm of dust and blood,
Carry me as I cry and wail in fear,
Carry me as I flee my house, like Sakina fled the tents,
Carry me as like Hussein, I lift the body of my child from the sea of bones and flesh,
Carry me as I give my dying baby a drop of water.
Carry me as the sound of my crushed, broken ribs takes me to Fatema.
For in Gaza I see dark, tearful images of kerbala,
Make me strong so I can comfort my family like Zainab
Make my son like Abbas so he can defend our home
Make my baby like Asgher so he can smile before he dies.
What beautiful trees once grew on these green lands,
Now stained forever in human red by Israeli hands.
I know you are there…
You are my only hope,
the world is silent at my pain,
so I’ll keep holding your rope.
Just hold me strong in this storm of dust and blood…
Oh God…just carry me.
I am alone.
— Masuma Rahim