Across the berm and far away must our religion spy
A distant land that we paint gray and where two Meccas lie.
In fields rich and in Tikrit, the Mosques that must devote
Time to every Christian street and laws our country wrote.
The derricks that perforce must greet our armies with applause,
The Tigris and Euphrates lay here at our feet their paws.
The cache of weapons that we find; the children of our foe,
Not knowing that we leave behind not theirs but our soul,
Join the cries. Our troops in camp while aircraft on their climb
Consider heaven as their ramp and every life, a dime,
Leap to shrapnel with a grin and kiss the desert's scent
In stripping the earth of its kin and God, His argument.
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