Sacrificial Lamb Basted Lambasted

Lambasted for the sacrifice by some
A final throe, brown eyes forever stilled:
Mist where whistful look had, peaceful, willed
Beatitude, not butcher's knife. Voice dumb,
Alas no longer heard by herd, become
Silent alike to day and night. Fulfilled
Time lent, throat rent, knife strife with sharp stroke killed:
EDifying insight on what Man has become.

(4 April 2012)

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!