Sheep

A poem attributed to a fictional character in a book I am currently working on.

I cry with Christ when at night I sleep,
But it's not for He or I that we weep,
Rather it's for lies told by so-called sheep,
To themselves about all the things they'd keep.

Author's Note

This is a poem by a fictional character... if you are offended please keep in mind that the "author" isn't even real.

Reviews

[TLK]

I'm not sure what to think of this. I think I would need to know more about the character so that I could see this writing being a facet of a more holistic psychological entity.

So I guess I'm saying that I'd like you to post the full work.

[Tantrika]

The work in question has a long way to go. It is set in the near future after the Armageddon Wars. The first "book" (supposedly the first published book after these wars) will be the fictional journal of one of the main characters - a woman intimate with the author of this poem and mother of the daughter who - with the male mentioned - form the back-bone of the storyline.

In short - I am unable to post the completed work as it remains unfinished. In "test your work" on the forums, I've posted the "forward" to Ruth's Journal

But thanks for taking a look.