Allahu Akbar!

by Lukas Elias (July 2025)

Preface

This poem belongs to a tradition of balladic lament and moral witness, a tradition that dares hold a mirror to the most uncomfortable aspects of life. It is not offered lightly, nor in hate, but in grief—grief for children murdered and abused, for a culture anaesthetised by fear and euphemism, and for the price we pay when truth is sacrificed at the altar of decorum.

Striving to balance condemnation of violence with a reflection on institutional complicity, the poem does not indict an entire people or faith. Rather, it confronts fanaticism and extremists and those who allow such atrocities in the name of religion.

In confronting the unspeakable, however, the poem risks being misunderstood. Yes, the subject matter is raw—its title, stark and deliberate, reflects the bitter irony of words once sacred, now weaponised in the mouths of killers. But as both lament and satire, it uses language as resistance, demanding that justice, not silence, be some answer to suffering.

Allahu Akbar! is about Truth, and those who have the courage to speak it. The truth, however terrible, must remain utterable. This is not hate speech. If its tone seems harsh and rebellious, it arises from a deeper sadness—that such verses need to be written at all.

Difficult art is necessary: crystallising what is most hard to express, is poetry. Blessed indeed are the peace-makers. But the peace we abandon, just like the freedoms we trade, may never be recovered.

===========Let not fear thwart our precious craft,
===========Truth is sacrosanct—our luscious draught.
===========Let the whingey whine, “O blasphemy!”
===========Silence is the only infamy.
–
–
He did not wear his suicide vest,
Nor ceremonial knife,
He was not filled with wrath but jest
When he killed his 9yr old wife,
The chattelized child whose terror grew wild
As he raped her of her life.
–
He followed obscene ideologies,
Death cults of masked dungeoneers.
He fuelled their crass theocracies
And fuelled our fears for years
With jihadist spiels and hostage deals
And blood spilled without tears;
–
Ploughing through kuffar crowds at a beach
Or a blasphemous Christmas fete,
Stoning apostates who fail to preach
Qur’anic Commandments of hate;
Ah, the Dance of Death is the shibboleth
Of a peace-loving Caliphate!
–
Yet as the blind have led the blind
The woke lead woke to squalor,
They disavow the West, malign
he Jew and Christian scholar,
But who will be glad when Euramabad
Ushers in its Grand Ayatollah!
–
As the wiliest trick Beelzebub pulled
Was pretending he doesn’t exist,
The Virtue Brigades are wickedly fooled
Protesting all who resist,
For an ‘ism’ or an ‘obia’ will not help Utopia
When it’s under an unholy fist!
–
Silencing patriots proud to speak out
Will not heal our Kingdom’s woe;
Gaoling warrior bards no doubt
Will cause more harm than you know,
For with every lie a truth must die
And more lies freely flow.
=
With every truth that is left unsaid
And every free-flowing lie,
The hate that harvests hate will spread,
See dancing cherubs die,
See flesh and bones of dulcet tones
No longer dulcify.
–
How many sacrificial lambs
Must fall into disgrace,
The cattle pit where branded rams
And ‘infidels’ lose face,
Each poor groomed child, drugged and defiled
In that hideous open space!
–
How smug on his rug in a snug bullpen,
‘The Saint of Sharia Abuse’.
Martyr him and sing Amen!
Gas him—then loop the noose!
Lest some smart suit wins this sick brute
Some licence to be loose!
=

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