the whimsical lamb,
How beautiful it is when just having fun.
As free as a vacant tear running down one's raw cheek.

As warm hearts turn to ice, the lamb grows.
Its coat becomes coarse with dirt and tangles, its eyes accusing. It's body turns to hard muscle and sharp bone.

Without the downey warmth of its youthful coat and the joy fueled energy,the lamb is running out of time.

As summer cools and the green and beautiful things fall into nigh endless slumber, the lamb, once sweet and gently, lays down on stiff bones to close its eyes one last time.