I am the angel’s favorite sacrificial lamb
Because I am so docile and sweet, I trot along happily as I’m dragged by the neck from one mission to the next
We have been so pure, little lambs
Yet why do the angels love massacre so dearly?
What truly makes these demons “monsters”? Who are you to call them abominations?
But I’ll keep these thoughts to myself, I will not be tied down because I follow my orders, giving only two little bleats with my soft voice.
My coat is stained red and my heart is heavy
How do you find it within yourself to kill the light in me?
Is my purity the reason?
Am I coveted or am I wrong?
I am afraid and foolish, I allow them to string me along the path of the blind
Infant and innocent; lambs lack means of self protection
Having neither rage nor claws
Is this ‘Lamb of God’?
Whether you come as a lover or an executioner, I am ready to receive you.
Just like how I received this “blessing” with not much of a voice.
I can no longer ignore this false retribution you give unto those you deem unworthy
What a self-righteous sense of justice
Don’t weigh me against your own morality
“Poor naive little girl?” Your so off the mark
I am both
The sacrificial lamb and the executioner
The scapegoat and the sword slayer
The one screaming and the ‘angel’ of death.