The Very Old Song

I am at the outskirts of the ant colony 
There are butterflies chirping behind the wall 
I hear them mooing and gnawing 
Chanting that very old song ——- 

I am a lost sheep, 
Wandered thousands of acres 
Uphill sunsets and calm afternoons. 
Halfway through I met with a face 
A blank black face who had eyes for flesh 
And street lamps for eyes. 

Its tongue sharp pinned my sheep legs 
On all fours and sacrificed me to the heavens. 
It pureed my flesh and fed it to pigs 
And the pigs had fecal orgies which I entered 
Repeatedly in their collective digestive systems. 

The pigs were then slain as slave fodder 
Fed to criminals on the morning of their execution, 
A ravenous dinner of glazed pork,
as their last meal.

The pork travelled into their intestines, 
To which then the slave group that had eaten me 
Were thrown inside a burning bronze bull. 

The orange metal scorching their screaming mercy black. 
The crowd watched me float into the atmosphere, 
The cheering sounded like the screaming of the slaves, 
And as I reached the clouds the cheering and the screaming grew louder, 

I then excreted the tears of the slaves souls 
Into an acidic rain on the Pharaoh’s castle 
Poisoning their water supplies. 

The city began to die and so did the acidity 
started running out of my reservoir. 
My water molecules then floated above the clouds 
And into the Gate. 

There I stood, beholden his throne 
His tongue speared the centre of my face 
And I was slain. 
My body ripped into pieces and I 
fell down back unto earth as sunlight. 

I reached into the roots of plants and grass 
And a lost sheep came to twoards me
eat of my green fringes.


(written on a summernight in my car. actualizing my 
imposter syndrome as a human being)