Walking in whiteness through the dawn
I came upon a sorry sight,
It stained harsh winter’s silent coat,
A mire of red on white.
Galvanised by whirling winds
It danced with little joy,
Tossed and teased by spiteful flakes,
Then discarded, a broken toy.
Agnus Dei? I can but justly say
That the innocence of this lamb,
Slain but not triumphant,
Is but part of nature’s cruel plan,
Not a sacrificial offering by man.
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