Lambing. To our deaths we go

Three little lambs were heard to be
Chatting in a pen, and ultimately
Pondering on how they each would die
Would they be stunned first
And might they cry

One said three ways
We could pass on
Kosher, halal or they may stun
From the green green earth
And the sweet young grass
A herbal bouquet
That was just first class

A Bunch of herbs
To prepare our way
What method will we
Receive that day

Halal, that thought
just so much fear
Lead into a place
A sharp blade is near
Slices my throat
My trachea
My esophagus
And carotid artery
And my jugular vein
When I shake and I scream eternally
I would be conscious
To that awful pain

The passage of death
It would follow
On

The other lamb said kosher for me
Another religion seemingly
I will pass too, similarly
As they slice my throat
Painstakingly

My soul will fly
Accordingly

The other I too will face
Death oh dear
prodded and forced
Along it’s clear
She will be stunned
Possible once
Or twice or even potentially thrice
Then they will prepare
Me
Cut me to pieces
That’s when real life
On earth yes it ceases

Being an animal in this land
Where monsters eat babies
It seems they planned
Our death as soon as our mothers gazed
Down on us though we were beautifully raised
Tiny little fluff balls
We came from the sky
A few short weeks
And we had to die

We bounced along
our short time on earth
Hardly ever noticed
After our birth
We were all so happy
And playfully
We skipped and we jumped
Accordingly.

We wished we were human
It just seemed
unfair
If we were human
We would want to share
Life force with them
Rather than die

And carry on eating
Our grass