Come out of your cave, bin Laden,
and meet me for battle.
Come down from your mountain, little goat,
and bring your saif.
I will beat you with a stick.
I will thrash you with the limb of a willow.
I say you will never see Allah,
for you are a prisoner of your own passion.
All the celestial virgins you dream of are not women.
They are serpents of lightning,
and they will wound you a thousand times with their kisses.
They will wound you for a thousand days.
They will wrap you in their flares, and when you cry out for water
they will offer you only the blood of the victims of your wrath.

Are you afraid of me?

Then come out of your sty, little pig.
Bring your scimitar, and I will smite you with merely a pea.
I will lash your face with a feather.
I say you will never see Allah,
for you are a slave to your own perversity.
All the starry maidens you dream of are not women.
They are griffins of fire,
and they will wound you a thousand times with their caresses.
They will wound you for a thousand years.
They will embrace you with their flames, and when you are hungry
they will feed you only the bones of the victims of your rage.

Are you afraid of me?

Then come out of your hole, little shoat,
and bring your shamshir.
I will shake the ground beneath you with my breath.
Bring your perjury, and I will show you truth.
Bring your avarice, and I will show you justice.
I say you will never see Allah,
for you are blinded by your own enmity.


© 2006 John Marshall