Lost Inside The Koran Poem by James McLain

ه

There by my hair you never tied or washed ever.
You by my word-of-mouth,
not from mine and that your rule of law is mine twisted.
While not Tonjas,
you predisposed to rearrange in the dark,
all that was read by them, I never said.

There was a time before this your jihad,
when I walked behind you, loved always.
Now you have to run before me,
never to walk in the shade.
To burn in the sun as would unbelievers.

Never to return to the place before you were born,
I would hear you,
the same ideas, which I spoke to you of.
I know where you hide them,
I know of the children, even your unborn
and the birds can not fly, plucked of their wings.
I know why you would as before, don't kill them.

Inside the Koran their are no mental hospitals,
Inside the Koran is the light not your prison.
And you have in great many numbers, Jordad in prison.
This will be heaven, yea this your next,
for each of you and your sons and daughters.

Their is still time pray retreat,
and while never knowing, trying to evolve.
Reason is for this,
is the place for your mother and father instead of yourself,
by but for love, you lay hurt on the road.
Where I before went ahead, you speak of your virgins,
as if they were camels on my back, to be carried.

You do not pray,
you don't ask and for this you can not follow my tracks.
Questions to all of the answers, I talked to you of,
and why, no one even now and pray they will listen.

So now as was said just for you long ago,
look to these your children, these jewlels of mine,
and I, if you don't, it will be you, whom is slaughtered.
Prophet the one, without resentments or numbness,
where others sleep with me as before, I had put them.

Religion can't see past blind science,
here are the all of the some, but for one, will not be.
Afraid of the dark,
and here each Muslim is and all of this to you,
I once promised.
And by the Hair that it is again clean, I have washed.