ramblings on Aḥlām al-Naṣr

in honour of authentic freedom of expression i hereby present something i did not myself write, but something that is written by a certain Aḥlām al-Naṣr, the poetess of the Islamic State:

    "My homeland is the land of truth,
    the sons of Islam are my brothers. . . .
    I do not love the Arab of the South
    any more than the Arab of the North.
    My brother in India, you are my brother,
    as are you, my brothers in the Balkans,
    In Ahwaz and Aqsa,
    in Arabia and Chechnya.
    If Palestine cries out,
    or if Afghanistan calls out,
    If Kosovo is wronged,
    or Assam or Pattani is wronged,
    My heart stretches out to them,
    longing to help those in need.
    There is no difference among them,
    this is the teaching of Islam.
    We are all one body,
    this is our happy creed. . . .
    We differ by language and color,
    but we share the very same vein."

i add, in accordance with my own truth, these words to what is aforementioned;
         

           in some weird ways
           i adore you, al-Naṣr ---
            you captivate.
    but
      i will resist 
         the kingdom of your god 
           on earth.
           allah is a spectre
            floating above existential event horizons:
           the memory of mohammad is raped and beaten
           brutalized, like yazidi girls ---
           it is not a pretty sight ---- everyone shall see it nonetheless. 

               fuck you --- you no longer enjoy the privilege of being protected 
               from allahs shadow on earth. 
              i extend my hand to Aḥlām, in marriage, in friendship, in enmity?
                you can choose... you can choose.

                i am sickened by totalitarian utopianism
                        which is a shame
                            because that is the easy way out.