Bearded and furious, quoting some prophet they rage in the streets of their failed nation-states exporting dysfunction, subversion and violence the hordes are empowered—they’re now at your gates.
They fume as they gesture, in ***** pajamas and brood over battles from centuries past. they **** for their Caliph in murderous dramas; the next ****** tantrum will not be their last.
Republicrat/Democan? Satan to them… They care not an angel what party you vote. Your well-meaning efforts are lost in translation— they’ll just as soon slit your good liberal throat.
Scandinavia’s day-dream, once Nordic, once bright is consumed in the chaos and vanished as smoke. Santa Lucia receives violent darkness for light as statistics play dead to her national joke.
The Ishmaelite deity (Arabic sin) is a vicious excuse for extreme misbehavior; a wind of aggression, demonic conception enraging dead souls against Jesus, Our Savior
Let destruction descend upon Mecca/Medina. The angels rejoice—may the righteous side win; for the judgement of God on an evil religion proclaims that earth’s joy is about to begin.
While the minarets topple, midst filth and manure in a cleansing display of immaculate hope, the muezzins are silenced, the pilgrims are stalled and the muftis are starting to mope.
♂✿∅☢♂☯✰✿☠♂☯✰ a poem a day for NaPoWriMo2016 ✿ www.connecthook.wordpress.com ☮