Dulce et decorum est pro deo occidere (it is sweet and right to massacre in the name of God)

And so they came with righteous smiles
Down the barrel of an Uzi
At the infidel, ragged, kneeling, praying,
His dull eyes cast upwards
Towards the satellite
Which will beam his last moments
Into Western lounges where the talk
Is of why she wears stilettos
When she is sitting at a desk
To read news of slaughter,
Drought and forest fires,
And will the cold front clear the coast
For our trip out tomorrow.
Yes, when the beheading is done
And flesh is left to the desert sun,
So they will come,
So they will come.