Anders Brevik, Mass Murderer
(In 2011, Anders Brevik, a fanatical far-right fanatic murdered dozens of peaceful young people camping on the island of Utøya.)
Anders Breivik
Was he a monster, an ogre or a psychotic
Or was he just insane, very mentally sick
Born with bad genes, receiving orders from the voice
Kill, kill, kill, spill blood, you have no choice?
Or did he like Jack the Ripper or Norman Bates
Stand no chance against the dictates of the fates?
His own mother could not stand the sight of him
She loved him or hated him on a random whim
A difficult child herself, was found to suffer
From borderline personality disorder
She looked on her pregnancy with unconcealed dread
And often told the boy she wished that he were dead
Growing up even when hurt he never cried
He never showed joy, or laughed, never even tried.
Of emotional engagement he was devoid
His love of cleanliness and order was unalloyed
At fifteen he was fined for the racist graffiti
He had splashed over the walls of the city
He became obsessed with the threat of Eurabia
A notion rooted in Islamophobia_
Espoused by Trump, Le Pen, Bannon and Orban
Who proposed, on immigration, a complete ban_
The betrayal by the liberal left of Europe
To the Arabo-Muslim world with the sole hope
Of ensuring the smooth flow of precious oil
Found in infinite lakes in their undersoil
And the billions of cubic metres of gas
They claim to be bountiful gifts of their Allah’s
Breivik’s hatred of all things Islamic
Made him feverishly paranoid and manic
His murderous attacks must have been years in the planning
Each step carried out with precision and cunning
He founded a computer programming company
With the sole purpose of making loads of money
Which he knew he’d need to finance his devilish schemes
He was a man who knew how to tailor his dreams
He joined a shooting club so he could buy guns
Anything he needed, to deal with the bad ‘uns
He bought a small farm in a remote location
To avoid scrutiny and observation
For what he had in mind he needed tons of nitrate
He bought the fertiliser (and got a rebate)
He now had everything to put his plan in action
The know-how, the ingredients, the weapons.
On the fateful day he detonated a device
Next to prime minister Stollenberg’s high-rise
Resulting in eight Norwegian lives lost
Then from the disaster scene he vanished like a ghost
And re-appeared on Utøya with machine guns
Determined to scotch the Labour party’s young ‘uns
He had held the leftist party responsible
For creating the chaotic and flammable
State Norway was in by its reckless policy
Of letting foreigners settle in the country
His aim was to shoot the budding socialists
As a warning to the world’s anti-fascists
He and like-minded defenders of the white race
Will not stand idly by and accept the disgrace
Once on the island he began his shooting spree
He shot the youngsters indiscriminately
Killing sixty-nine teenagers, the youngest fourteen
Wounding dozens, none of whom he had ever seen
That he was a true monster and not really insane
Can be seen by his desire to inflict more pain
Running for their lives in utter confusion
The youngsters sought safety in nooks and crannies
Behind rocks and stumps and barks of trees
When at last they heard a reassuring voice
You’re safe now children, the police is here, rejoice
And with relief they crawled out of their hiding shelters
To come face to face with Breivik’s frenzied splutters
