Soft Curses of Angels - Volume 3 - Vaudevillian

The Lamb

I remember being lain down in a field of golden grass,

The blades slowly swaying in the crisply cold wind,

I watched the clouds parade across my sepia skies,

Then I heard a voice rise above the wing and call my name,

It was both soothing and clear, but serious and forlorn,

I heaved myself up with a great effort to sit upright,

I tore my eyes away from the sky bound procession,

There stood the lamb in a halo of brilliant white light,

I was not afraid, I knew the lamb and it knew me,

It now spoke with the power of nine thousand and one voices,

                             "Take your blade from its sheath and bring it to me,"

I took my knife and pulled its shining smile into the light,

I rose and walked towards the lamb without a word,

The lamb lifted its head, looked to the heavens and decreed,

                             "Give me your heart and I will give you my throat."

Tears filled my eyes as my grip on the knife tightened,

With stolen breath I whispered, "Thou will be done."

For a blinding moment the blade's smile shone in the lamb's light,

My vision returned and greeted me with the vision of my actions,

With one stoke the smile had shown its teeth and cut clean,

It left a wet scarlet necklace, which wept as I fell to my knees,

The lamb bled as I watched its eyes go dead in that field,

The blood stained the earth and the grass turned a natural green,

The skies turned dark and dropped legions of tears from heaven,

The wind howled its frustration as I sat by the lamb expressionless,

I could not move or feel but I could speak repeating "Thou will be done."

I left the knife amongst the blades, the rain would wash it clean,

After a cycle of the moon I stood and uttered my mortal thanks.