allahu.cipher

The crowds rush forth
like mad berserker pilgrims,
with visions of Paradise before their eyes.

But the plain narrows,
and closes in like a vise,
until it comes to a point.

The hordes do not quit their push.
No — they only grow denser
toward the convergence.

The numbers swell and clamor
even as the noses of those in front
are ground into bloody pits,
and skulls are crushed into fragments.
The horror only redoubles their fervor.

Somewhere further down the path,
on the horizon ever beyond,
imagined highways smooth and wide.

They’ll glide along in sealed vessels
to well-lit grocery gardens
of endless abundance,
to groves of designer clothing
where leather Italian shoes
grow on trees like mangoes,
where polyethylene houris
flash their ornaments
to entice them toward
their sweet reward.

That is the last vision
in the theater of their hearts
before the inner walls implode
and the rivers of blood
come rushing in.

A final plague
upon these children
of the false caliph