(A suicide Car Bomber Is Last Regret)
Hands on the wheel, feet to the pedal
Poison was his sweat and his breath was lethal
Braveness to which no one dare awards a medal
Was engraved on his ruthless mind
Fed with misleading instruction that the devil codes
A message of peace that with many violence strode
Into a hell promised paradise and on his head was a load
Of guilt in the doomed realm his soul finds
Wished he had jumped out, wished he had reversed
But too late were his actions, not to be ad versed
By his recent mild feelings and a soul that conversed
With his, the one he had wrongly avenged
Her life he had once dedicate his heart for
Which he now sacrifice for a propaganda war
For another man’s fury and evil agenda, he saw
His last breath to the devil’s will clenched.