Betrayal in Modern Persia

The solid peace that is marijuana liquifies in his blood stream, bringing a dangerous calm to his turbulent life, like a ship in the eye of a storm.
Serene calm like a cool sea breeze meandering through branches and leaves, on a flourishing carribean island with a tequila on the side, but here the wind comes in dirt-in-your-face form.
Tumble weeds roll by, but not him he won't give in to natures forces, his new self has a new ego.
Treading  across sand dunes with vanes pointing at him, ninja masked desert style , his thobe flapping behind, he felt like he was his new favorite superhero.

He could see the distorted image of his destination through the prism of heatwaves, an abandoned midcentury mosque
 He arrives at twillight,bats circling, thighs aching, heart pounding, mind marvelling at how the day commits suicide for his brother, Dusk.
Recognition on the guards faces, he was waved invto see the old imam, alas! sitting also is the young sheik.
As if to further torture his weed distorted reality, he sights an american beer. A cold shiver down his spine. A little shake.

Come here mustapha, my old eyes long to see your brilliant face one more time
A lot you do not understand, so much to say, ao much to explain but so little have you time
Rooted to the spot, mustapha stared wide-eyed like he just saw the devil
Imam continued, God speaks to me and I answer, No questions or excuses, I help you my son, for this world is evil.

Mustapha finds his voice, the strong one. to take my life and others, are words you consider wise?
My boy, he retorted, what do you want of this desert? I offer you riches. Eternity. Paradise.
I have had the scrolls  interpreted  either your holiness is wrong or  mistaken
Imam shakes his head, You do not understand now but this step has to be taken.

He casts a glance at the rich chubby sheikh, what about  him what about the beer?
Imam replied, You are a man of little means but honorable heart, these things you must bear,
For the wealthy who give a lot of their wealth to charities and Allah's work, he grants favors
The young sheikh bowed surprisingly humbly,and lies unsurprisingly, the beer is one of the non-alcoholic flavours.

Mustapha resides in deep thought about his irreversible quest and it's apparent inevitability,
He bowed and moved closer masking fear with the best of his ability
The  voice within him  screamed NO! but the more right it felt
The fire in him, a fiery furnace, a weak man's soul it could melt

He let words loose, in a measured calm manner, imam my age old tutor
You remain tutor, but you're not worthy of my life or being called my mentor
As tutor I have always listened to you and always will
But know this everyman pays for his deeds to God, and to me a man you shall pay your bill

 He pulls his thobe, how do you explain this?
 Mustapha already had his suicide bomber kit on, Surprise! This arab is explosive
BAM! suicide! homicide!! homicide!!!
Esteemed sheikh and holy imam gone like pests from pesticide

News reaches the interpreter of the scrolls, the falser Imam.
He leaves his residence for the mastermind's,the main man.
The road treacherous, the sand storm seems in honor of the innocent dead,
Behold the organizer of the "religious" bombings, an American at the head.

Billionaire sheikh dead, oil blocks sold to foreign company
Innocent youths leader:we must avenge the imam's death, thousands accompany
Our people can't see, so liberation is an illusion
Our leaders lead us blind, awaiting them is eternal damnation

Instead of paying pastor and imam mental fees
you can face east on your own and pray on your knees
Don't be a pawn in the end games
The return of the king is imminent, you hold the controller to your own game.