This Is No Horror Fairy Tale Poem

This is no fairytale poem this is the reality Of the twenty first century, The era of religious political minds gone mad Preying on the young manipulating robbing their souls As, Graveyard eyelids close and open over compassionless eyes, The young female drone obsessed with promised martyrdom Moves into the centre of the busy market place. Her young slim body is now swollen to an obese size With the aid of dynamite strapped to her body Hidden under her dark clothing of lies, Make no mistake here moves a killer A mini 911 creature a black plague, A killer of women and children all innocent souls Where the Hell is the route of this insanity Is it the Aztecs digging hearts out for the sun God? The Romans digging roads in other people’s back yards? Gengus Khan preaching his beheading technique? Each side of the many faces of man Pointing the trigger finger at each other, Each with the mythical coat of divine blessing From their own misconstrued religion. I don’t know the answer but I do know When the young bomber blew herself up In the market with 45 other poor souls I do know the authorities put her head in a bucket.