Iman

Iman!

Suckling martyr whose name is faith.

Sharon!
May a thousand curses haunt your name.
Your skeletal shrine rises high,
like a temple of doom.
Your name:
The incarnation of evil;
Facsimile of death and macabre;

our anguish.

Iman!
Death makes your acquaintance
A bit too early.
A white coffin,
now becomes your cradle.
Heaven trembles
as it receives your feeble soul,

a bit too soon.

Iman!.
Weaned from life
Her face,
An indelible smile
etched into our hearts,
scarred, forever!

Sharon!
Why is death your ally,
your companion,
your messenger,
your legacy?
Cursed be thy name!

Oh sweet slumber of death
Where are the tears of Mary the Virgin?
Where are the lamentations of Jesus, on his crucifix?
Whs.share our countless prostrations?
Whom shall we beseech?

Where is our deliverer?

Sharon!

Your insatiable appetite

knows no limit.
Tell us how

to stop burying babies;
so we can go back

to the sweet slumber
of living death!

Sharon!

Cursed be thy name
Cursed be thy nation of warriors
Cursed be thy legacy:

The smell of freshly dug graves,

with leaning crescents and crosses.

The howling of stricken mothers;

a thousand Marys,
does not shake up the
solemn foundations of the White House.
Iman,

a name that Bush would never
remember.

But we hail Caesar, nevertheless!

Iman.

Life postponed indefinitely.
Forgive us!
Our hands are tied.
Our tongues are tied.
We offer words,

our own eulogies.
Will you forgive?

As you become the angel
The prophet
The messiah
That never arrived
Gaze at us with passion;
Half men and half women
Hybrids, freaks and ghouls
Salvation for thee we pine.