Once there was a little lamb
To be a healer was her aim
She was sent to the Camb
They sold whatever was in name

She worked late hours at night
Carried hay and eyed the lamps
Smiled and cried often little fright
She braved out the uphill tramps

Father knew she’ll make her proud
Sheeps resented the notion o’ ‘healer lamb’
Mother pulled her out of the crowd
Good fate would steal her lamb

She grew and grew, she was learnt
Came back to meadow, sickened hood
Her deacon hoped she’ll worth the oil burnt
Aimed fate probably wasn’t that good

She went out, starry night was when
Deacon Mare lead her to green field
What she thought was a passerby was a wolf’s den
Fragile they were but not weak to yield

Wolves attacked and she ran for life
Deacon tried to get her alright
Terror reigned their bodies, shivered
A pleasant eve bye, horrific and dried

Wolves bit her one by one
Played her to her very last bone
They threw her out of den when done
Deacon struggled but was to stone

She struggled to live, said, ‘don’t want to die’
Parents cried and hoped she would survive
There was a riot against all wolves
Jungle went at unrest this time

Lions were troubled if the lamb lived by
The riots would upset and end their reign
Promises were made, medics were called
Lamb was sent to secretly shatter and fall

News came to their mourn and lamb died
Jungle wept, baffled for their Fearless
Jungle swept in lambs’ revolutionary tides
Wolves were sentenced was told to press

Lambs kept dying by heinous wolves
Lions’ promises to keep them safe were lies
Who would tell they were caught up
In a world of fireballs and ice.


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