Master Index Of Online Books [133] From Muslims & Non-Muslims (Show Islam's Polytheistic Origins

The information presented here is just too overwhelming to ignore or just simply dismiss. A thorough investigation of even half of what is given here shows that Islam's roots are solidly pre-Muhammed, Henotheistic and Polytheistic in origin. These works, and the suceeding extra links that I will provide below, are a stinging indictment of Islam and show its true origins.

This information is much needed for perusal, so I decided to put it here where it would receive more attention.

At this link there are additional links to books written by ex-Muslims detailing Islam's poltheistic origins.

Here are the additional links:

1.) Encyclopedia of Islamic Myths

http://www.bible.ca/islam/islam-myths.htm

2.) Islamic Roots of Polytheism: Allah's daughters: Lat, Uzza and Manat

http://www.bible.ca/islam/islam-allahs-daughters.htm

3.) Hubal and Allah the Moon God?

http://www.bible.ca/islam/islam-moon-god.htm

This link has multiple links within it.

4.) The Satanic Verses in Qur'an

http://muhammadanism.org/Quran/SatanicVerses.htm

Muhammad learned his "roots" from Coptic Ethiopian Christians when he first fled his own tribe across the Red Sea, and more from the Arab Jewish tribe in Medina he later massacred after they started distrusting him.

The reason the Quran makes no logical sense is that he spouted this jumbled Old and New Testament from memory to fit his Arabic war, as he could not write and the Arabs would not have a written language for another 150 years. Any more questions?

Just thinking of Israfel.

[And the angel Israfel, whose heart-strings are a lute, and
who has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures. -- KORAN.]

IN Heaven a spirit doth dwell
Whose heart-strings are a lute;
None sing so wildly well
As the angel Israfel,
And the giddy stars (so legends tell),
Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell
Of his voice, all mute.

Tottering above
In her highest noon,
The enomoured moon
Blushes with love,
While, to listen, the red levin
(With the rapid Pleiads, even,
Which are seven)
Pauses in Heaven.

And they say (the starry choir
And the other listening things)
That Israfeli's fire
Is owing to that lyre
By which he sits and sings,
The trembling living wire
Of those unusual strings.

But the skies that angel trod,
Where deep thoughts are a duty,
Where Love's a grown-up God,
Where the Houri glances are
Imbued with all the beauty
Which we worship in a star.

Therefore thou art not wrong,
Israfeli, who despisest
An unimpassioned song;
To thee the laurels belong,
Best bard, because the wisest:
Merrily live, and long!

The ecstasies above
With thy burning measures suit:
Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love,
With the fervor of thy lute:
Well may the stars be mute!

Yes, Heaven is thine; but this
Is a world of sweets and sours;
Our flowers are merely--flowers,
And the shadow of thy perfect bliss
Is the sunshine of ours.

If I could dwell
Where Israfel
Hath dwelt, and he were I,
He might not sing so wildly well
A mortal melody,
While a bolder note than this might swell
From my lyre within the sky.

Edgar Allan Poe

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