A Liberated Sheep in a Post Shepherd World

A Liberated Sheep in a Post Shepherd World

In a room where silence fell like snow
She pinned the number on her dress
Hours before she jumped
That silent Sunday afternoon
Inches and miles away
From the white chalk farmland
Where a sea of darkness
And steering winds waited

They loved how they had broken her
Made her their own
Once more herding her back
Into the seven-fold flock
Where this liberated sheep
In her post shepherd world
Had once defied the master’s crook

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