Part 1: The Prophet's Last Words

The faithful wailed beyond the walls
In which the prophet lay;
The doctor tickled both his balls,
Before he stood to say:
"He might recover, never fear!
Mohammed's loved by God!"
But when he left and couldn't hear,
Mo's wives said, "Fuck that sod!
Mohammed's crimes we can't forgive!"
("He rapes us!" chimed the slaves)
"Why should the 'prophet' get to live?
His victims rot in graves!"
Mohammed moaned and rasped a threat:
"You bitches better leave!
My buddy Allah won't forget,
And every neck he'll cleave!"
But Aisha laughed and rolled her eyes,
"It's time to lift the lid:
You dress as Allah, tell your lies-"
"Oh, curse you, meddling kid!"
A dozen pressed the pillow down,
Mohammed's breath was stopped,
His wives and sex-slaves killed the clown,
The prophet's dead limbs flopped.

Part 2: Trouble in Paradise

Mohammed knocked on heaven's gate,
It swung to let him pass;
"My magic whores! Behold my fate!"
He said and slapped an arse.
"You fucking cunt!" the angel growled;
She spun and kicked Mo's dick;
"Mohammed! Finally!" Jesus howled,
"I've got a bone to pick!
In surah five, verse seventeen,
Your 'Allah' says I'm weak!
Such wretched rhymes I've never seen-"
"Just turn the other cheek;
Or else I'll smash your pretty face;
I slaughter fools, you Jew!
A virgin's status I'd erase,
When I'm done with you!"
"The meek inherit all the world,
But wankers get my fist!"
And Jesus glared and roared and hurled
An uppercut that kissed
Mohammed's jaw and launched him high;
"I'll get you back for this!"
The prophet shrieked across the sky
And into hell's abyss.

Part 3: Hell Is Other People

Mohammed burned in lakes of flame;
"Won't someone save my skin?
My fucking women are to blame,
Their thrice-damned sex a sin!"
Some succubuses dragged him out,
The prophet gave a glare;
"You demon harlots aren't devout;
Go cover up that hair!"
"Devout?" One smirked. "Behold the pit,
Where every sinner falls,
And watch your mouth, you little shit!"
She stomped and squished his balls.
Mohammed trudged through Satan's land,
While nursing crushed-up junk,
One testicle fell from his hand;
"Your manhood's really shrunk!"
Lord Satan clapped Mohammed's spine,
Mo dropped his other nut,
And Cerberus had two heads dine;
The third one bit Mo's butt.
"When jihad puts your folk in graves,
I, Satan, shall provide;
Instead of magic houri slaves,
I'll let them have your hide."

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September 30 is International Blasphemy Day, on which people blaspheme in defence of free speech and defiance of countries where fundamentalist legal codes persecute those who criticise or mock religious figures such as Mohammed.

Hence today seemed like the perfect time for a new blasphemous poem.