To the Australian Sheep Shearers

it is not  with trepidation

that I send these words to you

you who violate us all

and do what you did do

our wool was ours completely

uniquely we did bear

our coat of many thicknesses

that you all wanted to share

but the way you went about it

was violence all the way

an ordeal of  malfeasance

and its only us who pay

we forfeit on your trespass

dispossessed of ours by right

expropriated by you

switching off our light

you are sick imposters

illicit and its true

we call upon dear Morrigan

Goddess of fates

to do

the damndest darkest

retribution process that exists

Your skin should peel uncontrollably

as maggots gnaw  your fists

the greatest irritation and agony

they say

you will want to pull off little bits

and unforgivable display

and   unbelievable frustration

that does not go away

what we sheep did suffer

our psyche broken by

the evilness of arrogance

and why we all still cry

our tears will fill an ocean

our bloodshot  mirrors too

mortified by all you did

and all you still may do

to smash our heads with hammers

and punch us repeatedly

throwing expletives every which way

it just has to be

that Hathor comes to help us

to bring vengeance to bear

to retaliate and be pitiless

of everybody there

the rigours of each moment

the torment of the day

we shall make sure you feel the pain

and for the evil pay

there will be just no get out

payback starts so bow

for Nemesis is joining forces

so living in your now

out in wild Australia

where shearers earn their dough

by killing off our spirits

and letting us all know

that what we have is sought after

and has to be  stripped bare

the fact that we bled for many hours

and lived in such despair

really had no bearing

our insensitives were lost

you bloody well nigh murdered us

but it was all our cost

and so we turn the tables

the gods have come to say

you are going to suffer until your dying day

you are going to taste your blood

and drink it everyday

as we strip your skin off

and make you bastards pay

as the lymph and blood exude

what have you to say

not a lot I promise you

for the sheep that you had killed

many were just babies their precious

blood you spilled

cursed they were to be in the same shed

as you lot were

treacherous and caustic

on humanity a slur

saboteurs of reasoning

derisive in your way

of battering our intellect

and making us all pay

the softness was remarkable

as kicks and pain rained down

manhandled and brutalized

transforming our woolly gown

into a blood soaked remnant

showing adhering skin

and all done without painkillers

a disrespectful sin

this will be an execution

and many months of pain

its important that you suffer

busted up with strain

retribution is the gift of life

beyond the grave

they will take a horse whip to you

and really see how brave

you are now as your taking

instead of dishing out

and all your skin is withering

and you falling about

death comes with his sickle

but slowly takes away

the life force from your bodies

only slowly he does play

before the day of reckoning

you will collectively

scream out all together

begging for mercy

but it will not be coming

for death for you is slow

increasingly more painful

to just help you to know

the agony those sheep felt

that innocence abroad

how much you really hurt them

more than they could afford

and so your retribution

is god worked and sublime

and a lesson to any others

who might walk slowly through time

and the only compensation

will be that there’s no doubt

death is coming slowly

madness perhaps before

with theotechnic reverberations

just outside your door

to those Australia Shearers

life for you will be

nothing short of awful

for all of History

the wool you pulled

up over the doleful eyes of those

sporting it will see your plight

and like me hope it grows