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> My pen does have a mind to write.
Could be my brain, that sounds right.
About a scene.  I saw one night.
I did about it, then did write.

But today, before my mind.
My brain recalled that one time.
And now it's back again, this time.

I saw a woman so forlorn.
No expression on her face was borne.
Neither in her voice, it's true.
Can you remember me telling you?

I wondered if I was in her frame.
By frame, I mean, her body true.
Would I sound just the same?
Or would I have been, driven insane?

She had been a prisoner of the Islamic state.
Although she did not look a mess.
God spared her looks, I must guess.
Alas, inside, she was a mess.

If I could bear her pain, its true.
I would, but know, alas that I cannot do.
I prayed to God to intervene.
But of true men, none could be seen.

I assume they're working behind the scenes.
Scared in case by Islamic state seen.
As they will be targeted as well.
By them Islamic state men from hell.

They are not real men, you see.
Treating women so very badly.
Although that woman bore her pain, well.
I'll be glad when all Islamic state are in hell.

Make it soon, good Christian men.
Rid the world of them Islamic state's excuse for men.
You see, they all will go to hell.
And I've agreed to go as well.

You see, I, made a deal with Satan.
I'm sure I did tell you.
I'm going to sort hell out. 
Just don't tell them how.

Although if you can remember the title of my poem.
You might just remember how.

I hope I do not have too.
But it's plain to me.
We are not winning the battle.
Against those terrorist we see.

With all the innocents in heaven.
And the terrorists martyrs all in hell.
By the time I've finished working.
Hell will be purged as well.

I might have a little problem
As Islamic state numbers do grow.
So I'll expect some support from you.
When it is your turn to go.

There's plenty of God's armour.
It will make you strong.
And then, with all your help.
We'll rid the whole universe of wrong.

Easter has now been and gone, The world is sill going wrong. So with Jesus back where He belongs. Guess We must sing new battles song. Am I right? Or am I wrong? (The mad Author)<
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