Sheikh Nimr’s scars were lessons for us to live by, his sacrifice was holy and led to an Islamic awakening
Sheikh Nimr welcomed pain like an envelope hungry for money
He was tortured, bruised, and battered but couldn’t be silenced–the Saudi pigs thought they could exile his soul from this earth, little did they know that our voices have become stages for his message to parade on
He will not vanish into the wind nor will he be swept by the breeze of forgotten souls! He is a storm that hits and doesn’t allow you to forget!
His name will be a burning scar on the cold hearts of ale Sa’ud
Sheikh Nimr was not a revolutionary who hid on the outskirts of town, he was a warrior
who fought his battles in the presence of danger
He conquered the language of justice and his words transcended all oppression
It’s funny how history has a way of repeating itself–a man had to give up his neck for the truth to touch surface with our empathy
And we all know how that narrative goes, don’t we?
He never apologized for taking Ashura as a blueprint; he constructed communities with his faith so his death will never go in vain!
It’s funny how the swords that made Karbala resemble a bone-yard are still being used to grant us martyrdom
How foolish are these tyrants?
Don’t they know that when you bury something alive, it will only come back to haunt you?
Don’t they know that revolutions are born when death adopts a victim?
Don’t they know that our hearts don’t stop fighting until Allah (swt) gives them permission to?
Don’t they know that Sheikh Nimr’s blood will sink the ship of their power?
Sheikh Nimr had a knack for relentlessly fighting for the oppressed
He planted his feet into the ground and wouldn’t budge until they ripped him out by his roots
His death was like the ripping of a tree straight from the earth, they had no mercy for the pieces of him that were left behind
His followers have guaranteed that his blood will be avenged and it will, it will be the root of the Saudi destruction
I pray for the nights that the heavens will no longer have to swallow up our headless bodies
I pray for the nights that will leave traces of the return of our beloved savior
I pray for the nights that don’t carry ghosts of innocent martyrs
I pray for the nights where safety and comfort didn’t seem like a far-fetched prayer
I pray for the nights that we can look into the skies and see stars, not retreating souls, although the sight is inevitable
What a beautiful sight it is to gaze upon when a pure soul returns to its source of light
The skies roar as Sheikh Nimr soars in the night
