Bride of Terrorism
Far removed from the society of man,
She tucked herself behind a dank and dingy night,
Behind the sound of eager muezzin;
Clad in mascara
And a black disenchanted chador;
a broken frame,
Governed by fears and extremism.
She loves her groom but hate the war.
Lumps her weak and slumped breast
Into the mouth of her infant baby,
that beg a question of the world.
Always led through monstrous indignity
Of sexual molestation and violation:
Tortured into compliance and complacence,
Fled from embattled cities into captivity,
This bearer of a caliphate’s tales.
What more cruel torture, barbaric killing,
Cursed overture, did her sight grip?
Dovetailing into the night,
Prayer book in arms.
Source: Bride of Terrorism