The Father and the Flock

The bearded Father uttered to the waiting Earth:
„Today you follow me unto a new, fresh world!
Leave the bad behind and you'll ascend to mirth
All your troubles – broken - and happiness unfurled“

And followed him, did most, like honest sheep
Followed, for their minds were long asleep
So the bearded Father smiled unto his stock
„Give them salt and to honey they shall flock“

Yet there were those that stayed in this forsaken land
There were those untrusting of a helping hand
And so they watched as livestock herded are
A sight to sigh upon, disturbing and bizarre

So more sheep are bred, from this great herd
And in their ecstasy they turn the wheel of birth
But not a birth of brightness, but a birth of dread
For everything's the same of all that is now said

The sheep's unison „bah“ and the death of mind
Portend a time nothing like what is left behind
The white pelts follow, blind, the herder dogs
Their minds alike to that of rotting, lifeless logs

And a sparrow would now weep, if weep he could
For from his branch, up high, all is understood
The bearded herdsman looks upon his flock
And toward the sparrow a bow he does knock

And so the last wings flutter, in silence and unheard
Sheep only forage, care nothing for the dying bird
The Father smiles, death flying from his hands,
Fallen is the last free thing in these brave new lands.