Our Lady of Sin

Our lady of sin

Hail, most holy of angels; you guide us evermore.

Praise be to thine father; the grandest designer from a time long before.

Fall far down the line, stray long from the path,

Soon you shall feel the shepherd's wrath.

A cattle am I, a sheep are you; 

From our herd, the butcher does slew. 

Death awaits inside our pen,

But death, the same, outside, again.

Our lady dost comfort us;

Keep us from fear.

But the sons do frighten us,

Of the outside, so near.

A cruel game of cold and cold,

A final insult, that they may stay their hold.

My turn draws near; the butcher's come.

The gates, now open, but my legs, now numb.

Not drug, not fear that holds me and my kin,

But a comforting look from my lady of sin.