Poem: Martyrs Against You

Every journalist you kill
Ascends to heaven to claim
Their place

Every shop owner, every
Infidel and unbeliever
Can have their share
Of the virgins promised
To you

Every video, every exclamation
Every screaming headline
That splash across our screens
Will be the tide of woe
That will carry you
Away from
Your promised reward.

Surely

Heaven is finite
Each victim has a place there
To deny you a place there.

Hopefully

Fear is finite
Every sufferer will say enough
And turn defiantly
To ensure you find
The peace
That you deny us.

Simon Lenthen c 8.2.15

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