With his own hands
He would cut off
The entire head
Of a living human being
He would see, hear, and feel
The terrible struggle
As the soul was forced
From the body it inhabited
He did this with hard, cold, precision
He did this with the name of God on his lips
We cringe at the thought of these things
We ask how a man could be so cruel
We do not regret his passing
If one thinks about the civilians killed with him
If one considers the cold "precision"
Of bombs dropped by jets
And missiles fired from helicopters
And defensive firing from road blocks
If one considers the impersonal nature
Of the killing of thousands of innocents
In what is called "collateral damage"
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