Oh little lamb! Who arises your fear?
The one whose promises are paper thin? 
Is it too much to ask our “God” to bear with us so we shall stand tall?
Stand tall despite the prying ear.
And when you are impaled, is that not a sin?
Impaled so that you may never see their mighty empire fall.
Alas, frail lamb! Alas!

The wolves preying about the land intoxicated off the blood.
Smiling as they pounce at your adolescent kin.
Mutilated mercy.
How dare he step on your dreams strewn through mud?
But you shall not back down. He shall not win!
Mutilated mercy.
Alas, frail lamb! Alas!

As your brethren of the outside world had turn an unseeing eye.
Forgiveness is asked as lambs fall into pools of the unholy,
pools of reminiscence so cold.
Wherefore is the warmth received from the old lie?
You, little lamb, may never know.
Because life proceeds with the truth untold.
Alas!