Who shepherds the lamb to the slaughterhouse,
Gently caressing coiled strands of fur,
Fully fathoming the fate awaiting innocence,
Which easily has less might than a field mouse?
Would this same usher take the hand of a blind man,
And escort him into oncoming traffic,
Completely comprehending the impending doom?
Or is murder only acceptable when suited to dinner plans?
No comments:
Post a Comment