Bloodstained clothes in heaven
He’s standing in front
Of an ever closed door;

Rubbing against his temples
Wondering what’s wrong
On his broken floor.

He needs salvation
He’d done everything right
To be finally saved;

In the name of God
He served his life
And always behaved.

In his book he believed in
And prayed every day
Educated by ISIS;

He didn’t know how to read
Just told what to do
And finally, “Kill this!”

Gifting his life to unfaithful people
Made hell out of Earth
For the family he left;

He wore bloodstained clothes
A murderer soon forgotten
Of his life bereft.

        © Séamus Kennan / 2017