it is addressed thusly:
An imprecation.
it reads:
In time, before St. Philip's day
In dark of night, Paris sleeping
The dam which held it back gave way
That wall alone which still was keeping
Detente in place, with fragile words
But not it seems, with sharpened swords
As those of the moon might say
Time is nigh to cut their cords

And let them to the ocean's whim
The middle sea cross'd with impunity
As though no water contained within
Had power longer to make men flee
Who would fear the water's wrath
They think and stumble down the path
And not of their childrens' security
They think of taking a bubble bath

While blood to spill and bombs pour in
An army gathers they cannot rout
Awaiting spark, inciting din
While they quaver in darkling doubt
It is a story, 'twas told before
For when the blood runs to their door
Will they turn the migrants out?
We wonder what we should wonder for.
a postscript is here written:
a pass-word:
11/13/15 Muslim Paris Rampage

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