We live in parlous times, a time of war, of the clash of civilizations. Militant Islam swept the known world from the gates of Hercules to the Hindu Kush, conquering the Christian cities of North Africa and subduing the Hindoos of northern India, establishing a Caliphate at Baghdad. The first check came in the 8th century, when a Muslim army conquered Spain, or Andalusia, and advanced into France where they were met at Poitiers and defeated by Charles Martel, Charles the Hammer. There followed centuries of warfare, with the Muslims finally being subdued at the gates of Vienna and at the battle of Lepanto, science, technology and the Western way of war gaining the upper hand. But the Muslims have never given up the dream, the command, to conquer the Infidel. Western weakness and self-loathing has given them the chance to renew their dream, and we shall shortly have need once again for the Crusader knight.
The vultures circle overhead
They wait, the man is not yet dead
The banner’d cross is seen to rest
Upon the silent figure’s chest
He stirs, he tries but cannot speak
He knows he must, but is too weak
A groan, a rising to a knee
Another groan his sword is free
A stumbled step towards grinning foe
A parried thrust, the sword held low
No shield, no helm he stood his ground
And glared the glinting saber down
He died that day for you and me
He died for us, so we’d be free
To live our lives in our own way
To live our dreams and have our say
And now the foe has come again
But do we now remember when
Brave men went out to fight and die
For God and country, hearth and sky
Or shall we meekly all submit
To Allah’s shamed unholy writ
Hell no! I hear some voices cry
So very few, just you and I
But more will come, then many fold
Will rise, and when the story’s told
The Mussulmen who ‘leashed this war
Will find what free men have in store
For those who think our courage gone
And make of us their dhimmi pawn
The Arab thinks he is the one
His god the essence of the sun
He thinks that Allah gives him might
He thinks the kafir will not fight
But he should know we have the will
Crusader blood flows in us still
The day will come we’ve had enough
Then we will call old Allah’s bluff
And turn to glass their precious sand
In hopes they’ll finally understand
We want not war, we wish for peace
We wish only the killing cease
But if they push us to the wall
We’ll still for good the muzzein call
The vultures circle overhead
In vain, the West is not yet dead