They're sore at the Norse, who showed remorse,
But they want more, and that's to settle scores.
Their scary corps would just be bores,
But they want to make you dead.

A blight at the source, their main recourse
Is to slit your throat--then you can't get hoarse.
It seems one of their favorite chores
Is cutting off heads.

They'd forbid nearly all to speak
While they would bray and bray.
They'll go out in the streets and shriek,
But they'd really much rather slay.

For this horrid force, there's no remorse;
They're lacking a sense of humor, of course.
They say of the image-printing Norse,
Because they've been dissed:
"Die for Mohammed!!