Dar al Satan
Death his emasculating blow has dealt
And to ensure the hurt is keenly felt,
Rubs anthrax in the wound and seals his plot.
Now Death is crouching in the mailslot.
Having struck down the citadel of power,
Of bankhood's prowess slain the very flower,
To underlie his skill to kill en masse,
He makes a target of the working class.
Meanwhile, we beat our breasts remorsefully,
Apologize to Islam ruefully,
Examining our culpability
That prompted terrorism’s cruelty.
The citizen, it seems, must bear the charge
Incurred by foreign policy at large,
Excise the thorns embedded in his heart
For policies in which he took no part.
We are required within our fault to find,
To reap the harvest of a devil’s mind
Searing the memory of our thousands dead,
Though 'twas Islam these fiendish horrors bred.
Meanwhile, 'tis sinful impropriety
To plead the cause of Christianity
Or dare ascribe the Lamb's ascendancy
As God's Ambassador in Regency.
What can the Cross convey or what inspire
To moslems bent on sating Death's desire?
To save another's soul, in love to die,
Is meaningless to them who death supply.
What good the man in crucifixion's plight,
The christian symbol, when a creed would fight
Its way to Paradise or thinks to glide
Past angels guarding Eden's eastern side?
Those sentries thrust the stars down from the skies,
To Tartarus despatched the Sire of lies,
Thus served the Word who brought the world to birth,
Doing His will in Heaven and on earth.
None but this Lord of Life hath conquered Death
Yet moslems on their prayer mats, wasting breath,
Grovel prostrate in legalism’s bind
Since Death hath cozened them at hoodman blind.
The militant apostle, Peter, might
Have been a moslem in unrighteous fight
But called to be a man not of the sword,
He fished for souls, appointed by his Lord.
Such is the lesson History should teach
To judge between religions. I beseech
You let this principle inform your choice:
The sheep is saved who knows his Shepherd’s voice.
Yet we must be inclusive, tolerant
Of ignorance and teachings aberrant,
Embrace with open arms the moslem lie,
Darkness with light as if the truth's ally.
O friends, Americans, lend me your ears,
Blame not Islam in spite of what appears.
Ambition was chastised in worthy plan:
Muhammad is an honorable man!
To call us infidels is Islam’s right,
And though its chiefest virtue’s to recite
A book of heresy, let us pay heed
How faithfully it matches word with deed.
Mullahs and clerics celebrate indeed,
Extol the outcome of their venom creed,
For their unholy jihad intercede.
Hate knows no reason but itself to feed.
Evil can misappropriate the guise
Of any faith, but Islam most supplies
The murderous hatred of a heathen band,
The furnace that consumed our smoking brand;
The red-hot iron the treacherous Philistine
Doused in the eyes of Samson in design
To sear the speck seen in the man devout
(So were our Windows on the World plucked out);
The razor-blade that shaved his strength away
Wielded again in sickening display,
Our selves to sacrifice to moslem laws,
Involuntary martyrs to its cause.
Dorothy Sayers said the war between
Belief and unbelief is ever seen
In preface to translating Roland's Song
Who fought the pagan in a campaign long,
Who was avenged by Emperor Charlemayne
Slaying the saracen on battle plain,
Though like a poison weed that roots not out,
The enemy returns to his own rout.
In his abode of fiends, where springs no wheat,
The foe breeds plagues in pestilential heat.
Dwelling where neither rain nor dew can fall,
Devising wickedness by Satan’s call.
To counteract, the West rides off to war
Though Peace, with call unheeded, would implore
Restraint. But now the battle’s underway
With wrinkled front, what shall our pundits say?
Each time we hear “civilian” said, the word
Is glibly paired, in inference absurd,
With “innocent”, as if, in righting wrong,
Our warriors in guilty rank belong,
Who rather should, as great men of renown,
Among the lists of heroes be set down,
Who enter hallways of the mountain king
Where pig-faced trolls in caverns dance and sing.
Mullah Zaeef proclaimed: "to change regimes
Is Allah's job and His alone." Men's schemes
Are immaterial. Amen! Then may
The psalmist's call, "Let God be judge", hold sway.
Politically perhaps, ‘tis incorrect
To speak so. Prudence should be circumspect.
But Islam’s tyranny I’d fain refute
And ‘till the stones cry out, I’ll not be mute.
So to the moslem temples thus I speak:
Your terror is the refuge of the weak
And at the judgment day, long overdue,
Christ shall become the stumbling-block to you.
