Yazid, 2nd Umayyad Caliph

Drunken, every day, even in Mecca. You treated the holy city like a slum.
We remember you for refusing seven battles of the Muslims
You were forced to fight an eighth in spite of your fear.
(Some say God forgives you all that cowardice for being the leader.)
You ruled over the death of the Prophet’s beloved family.
We still weep that Husayn died at Karbala because of your infamy.
Your rule bent the back of Zaynab bint Ali.

You make small pious deeds shine with your memorable corruption.
Each time I decide not to strive for glory tastes more blessed.
Each day I try to collapse myself into a sizeable goodness.
Straining to avoid censure, I avoid some mosques to be modest.
I have relinquished the need for company or talk and keep silence.
I work to keep a veil over me, to help Allah cover me.

Will I resemble Yazid or be like Husayn filled with purity?
I read the Qur’an and write poetry,
Recoling from arrogance and filled with anxiety.