Although in the silence of water
No amount of it can make me clean
Since the time of the gentle lamb's slaughter
In the shearing of sheep amongst the bleating
I was a newborn ewe
I heard the cries of the others
Who met with their rendevous
Shaven clean in chilled air
In the dew filled meadow trench
Wolves in sheeps clothing lurked
My fists remained in tight clench
In other places I was loosed
The wolves were ravenous in their way
In dire memory under the clouds
Of that unmerciless day
The flow of blood gives its stream
To the nightmare within a dream
My place of refuge in the water
Inside myself I scream
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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