The various modes of worship, which prevailed in the Roman world, were all considered by the people, as equally true; by the philosopher, as equally false; and by the magistrate, as equally useful. And thus toleration produced not only mutual indulgence, but even religious concord.”
― Edward Gibbon, The decline and fall of the Roman empire 

Photo by Francesco Alberti on Unsplash

 

Those rich metaphors drawn from the sky and sea

Rich funereal language, baptism and burial and birth,

Blossom and harvest, with the wise ones, Witan’s children.

From the lips of children we must learn that clinging

To life is not enough.

Smoke over Mosul. Mosul’s churches where once

The Jacobite heart of Christian belief was celebrated

Among the ruins of Nineveh, along the same back paths

And alleys that the Jews took to their synagogue

Which had been there since the Prophet Zoroaster

3500 years ago. Today Zoroaster’s sons and daughters

Are buried all around Mosul. These Yezedi dead are a vestige

Of a different way. On them

Those Salafist-devils sought to satiate their sin.

Trace the infected stream back to its source

This nest of vipers

Of Wahhabism in Saudi Arabia. Look! You’ll find it there.

These enemies of Voltaire

Contaminate the very air.

And oil means the west does nothing at all.