What’s a faith, without jihad, august
Cries out, a martyr, from his tomb!
Who baptized, his soul, in blood-lust
To be, born again, in a, hallowed womb!

Where began, hate’s holy enigma
With the, blood rites, of that, boy’s foreskin!
Who would, by-heart, in madrasa
To kill kaffirs, is not, a sin!

Now a bearded, skull-capped, stereotype
Sedated by, opium of, his faith
In a, suicide-vest, all set, to wipe
The kaffirs’ clan, a ‘righteous wraith’!

If jannat, ain’t enough, a bait
To grease, a Jihadi’s, itching palm
72 virgins lay, in seductive wait
For The, Holy Henchmen, of Islam!

© 2019 Vikas Chandra