From the Muslim side of the door,
have we yet heard it all.
Woman and children flat on their backs,
looking up dead at the sky.
While daddy the terrorist needs more
water boarding as tears fall as rain muted down.
How much is believed as knives cut fast away
at their soft parts....
From the Cristian side it is better believed,
when it is done and cloaked in lost tongues.
Warmed then it's hot,
mixed with but a few ice cold daggers.
Video cameras on and unjustly confessed comes
the noose round ones shocked neck.
While Yahweh and Allah consort in the book
that lawyers made thick for looks.
While the Rabbi looks on and supervising more land,
when it's found it spreads it's wings and flies away.
The Gods seem the same as reason goes, is choice
a dictator that kills them all for children to sort out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Whatever this nonsense is, it is not real poetry. Well, maybe BAD poetry!