The lost jihad

The wells in the eyes of innocent have run dry
Nations try to rip the world apart with a deafening war-cry
In this wicked desert of scorching pain and misery
There lies not a singular oasis of tranquility
Not a singular rain-cloud of mercy

In your Jihad, god has forsaken your blood-stained cause
Where is he now to to stop the bloodshed
While his children die with chopped off heads
Drop your weapons and embrace one and another
Realize the man you are trying to kill is a human brother
Does his faith in another god make him some sort of monster
Your Jihad doesnt disperse your own god’s love for the faultless people
All it ever did was start a terrible blood-drenched massacre