I devise exploding bombs

to tear apart the silken flesh 

that loves this world too much.

 

I plan and make the horrors of

death and blood that visit and

haunt the innocent ones who

don’t inherit the earth that’s theirs.

I rejoice again in the spectacle bloody 

that spreads across the world in words

and pictures, and sends the terrifying

prophecy that the faithless ones are doomed.

 

I kill myself for glory so that I am

destined for the land beyond this 

reviled  place; and in this death so sure

that visits me and others for the 

cause that had no name, the act of dying

becomes my truth for the sake of my eternity. 

 

I am the thin edge of religion’s sword 

that’s white and black and has no shade between.

 

And I sit and plan among you,

pausing at the extreme,

waiting in judgement,

with death as my friend.

 

24/4/2019