Sheep of the Apocalypse
The sundown shroud of evening fell
To settle on the city's wreck
Of buildings broke by wicked spell
Called by fate's destructive beck.
And from afar they saw the shapes
Stark, bleak against the red sunset
The ruined outlined cityscapes
Unknown misfortune met.
The country folk had little need
And rarely ventured to the smoke
But still they could not but take heed
And wonder how those buildings broke.
So, from afar they wondered at
What strange calamity befell
The city that had been so great
But what they couldn't tell
A strange flock from the west emerged
The sunset blooded red their fleece
Had some uncanny demiurge
A flock of demon sheep released?
But, no, they were just simple sheep
That somehow seemed to be astray
Unanswered though the questions creep
To where the flock had been that day
The strangest tales are oft untold
And sealed before the tale's begun
Since they had sneaked out from the fold
What dark deeds had those sheepies done?
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