One Year On Since IRGC Officer Mohsen Hojaji’s (R.A.) Martyrdom: A Stoic Glimmer In The Raging Abyss

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

Take a look at his face and then note…

Not a flinch, not a wince, not even a pinch of fear as he has a blade to his throat…

Death sits upon him but it’s light as a feather…

‘Cause he knows he has eternity to spend with Ahlul Bayt (A.S.) and he’ll remain righteous forever…

He went to Syria to fight the Sufyani…

And smite the Anti-Christ Illuminati…

Strike back against the spiteful blight-like Yahoudi Lobby…

He gazed into Global Zionism’s blackened grill and didn’t blink…

He waded through Global Zionism’s bastions still and didn’t sink…

He didn’t think…

He didn’t wink…

He just fought, like it was Ashoura every noon and evening…

Like he was the Islamic Revolution breathing…

His post, he refused to leave it…

Until Bilad al-Sham could rise from the ashes anew and gleaming…

Like the embodiment, of ancient structures of Assyrian and Persian Civilization combined only this time with godliness, and imbued with the plumage of a whooshing, booming and blooming phoenix…

And announce itself free of the Takfiriyeen and their masters, the Jewish demons…

Look at his aura, it has shone and shimmered and it blazed through the mists…

The sons of Yazid (L.A.) were upon him like hyenas and monsters but he stood tall, A Stoic Glimmer In The Raging Abyss…

They took his head…

Like what their predecessors did to Hussein (A.S.)…

But what they actually took instead…

Were their own souls, damning ’em to the fires of the spiritual plane…

Mohsen Hojaji (R.A.), a miracle, yes, the Khawarij had a miracle slain…

Such pitiful men immersed in such miserable bane…

Ya Hojaji, in the middle of the night, you cling to their minds and are filling them with fright, like a weapon your spirit is, click, clack, blast and they shiver in pain…

Ya Hojaji, in the vastness of the infinite, we hear the reverberations of your invincible name…

Now compare your courageous luminosity to the worry and the horror…

On the mug of your killer, not a pillar like you, but a filler of swill, tinier and weaker than krill, one not prepared for the fury of the Father (SWT)…

That’s going to crush him for the crime he committed when he cut you, embers of Al-Naar will scorch him in flurries on top of flurries in a sauna…

His anxiety will be frying him like the Zionist he is, an essence disconnected, dirtied and marauded…

While you live on and glow like galaxy chains…

For aspiring resistors who saw your picture spread across savvy domains…

And they drank up your story like a Khomeiniist elixir so now they wanna be akin to you, look at what your gallantry changed…

Your murderers, this fake “caliphate” known as ISIS…

They’re light-less…

So-called Daesh…

Just rotted bits and chunks of Mossad flesh…

Godless goblins who were processed in labs for ‘Greater Israel’s’ progress…

You and your fellow Guardsmen stopped it and stomped them like a tyrannosaurus and mastodon meshed…

Shoulders straight…

Like you already know your fate…

Chin up…

Like you ain’t give the slimmest damn, even had the onlooking goons and jinn hushed…

Pupils wide…

Focused on the gruesome sky…

You see the Imam (A.S.) on Zuljanah coming to you and riding fast…

Inside, you feel a smile flash…

‘Cause the resemblance is as clear as Islam equals truth, you see the events of Ashoura reenact before your eyes like no time had passed…

From that moment on the 10th of Muharram until you were martyred in the same fashion, a grave exactness, welcome to the abode where the lions dash…

Ya Hojaji, you angel encased in a human’s body, a sacrifice we’ll speak of for generations and endlessly respect…

A Stoic Glimmer In The Raging Abyss, Hojaji is how you confront the enemy in death…

In the most terrible nights, we struggle harder when we feel your Nour flare…

In the deepest caverns, we battle our way out of it ’cause somehow, you’re there…

When we lose sight of the path, we’ll regain all the science and math just by remembering your pure stare…

With so many broken sinners who are fazed by a glitch…

Too weak to survive the frozen winters that could maim us to bits…

We cling to your Husseini resistance and realize your exemplar is flowing in us and could take us on trips…

To the mountaintops of Mouqawamist victory, embedded in history are you, o’ heroic winner, you’re an ace and a gift…

Allah yerhamak Mohsen Hojaji (R.A.), beloved moujahid, A Stoic Glimmer In The Raging Abyss…

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