Sunday, December 03, 2006

I would blow up Mecca

I would back every man with a gun
I would stand behind every trigger pulled
By those who killed and got the job done

I would strike at the heart
Of the enemy
And their raghead
Alli baba beliefs

I would
Rain down on them
Pain death and slaughter
The most unmerciful grief

I would execute their leaders
I would take from them their oil
I would take from them their land and riches
To the victor goes the spoils


No quarter asked
No quarter given
Only blood can take
The measure of the line

I need but ammunition
Food and weapons
And for the timid
To get out of the way

Of my kind

over several days
transcribed this time
8:28 pm