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?