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Become shepherd of the flock,
The flock that is doomed to slaughter;
The flowing blood where you walk,
Flowing into the water.
Those who buy will slaughter them,
And they will go unpunished;
Innocent lives to condemn,
Some are shocked and astonished.
Bless be the Lord, I am rich,
The shepherd takes no pity;
Enough cash to make a switch,
And move into the city.
I have no pity for here,
Inhabitants of this land;
I will be having no fear,
For the future is at hand.
Into each hand of his king,
I see they will crush the land;
For I will have joyous sing,
Deliver none from their hand.
As the shepherd of the flock,
Doomed the slaughter of the sheep;
The sheep traders had to talk,
Before putting them to sleep.
Three shepherd I had destroyed,
I was impatient with them;
They detested me and annoyed,
The Lord needed to condemn.
No longer as a shepherd,
What is to die, let it die;
I ignored the Holy Word,
Confusing that made me cry.
What is to be gone is gone,
Those who are left devour;
Devour others by dawn,
At the sun rising hour.
I cried out unto the Lord,
Asked if it is good for You;
May I be paid to afford,
The direction to pursue.
Copyright © 2019 Richard Newton Sherrer
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Shepherds
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