The sacrificial lamb led to the slaughter.
The role we all play at one time or another.
We know it is happening, yet we cannot stop it, cannot reject our fate,
that of doom, foreseen at the dawning of time, the prophecy of which is handed
down from generation to generation, not in words of wisdom spoken from parent to
child, but from actions. The
actions we all make, attempting to ease our bitter existence, to give ourselves
a respite, even just one momentís worth, so that we will know it is not all in
vain, that our lives do occur for a reason, and a reason beyond that we are here
to be tortured by some "supreme being".
Yet even as we go through these motions, we know deep within that it is
pointless to try, that our actions will not prove anything, even if we do
succeed. For just one moment we may
be able to unlock the chains which bind our hears, and fly free, far from
ourselves, like a bird on the warm currents of a mid-summerís afternoon,
floating lazily along under the sun, going where we choose.
But then, after that moment, another problem plagues us, bringing us back
to ourselves and once more encasing our hearts in the locks and chains of pain
and misery which we wear. And once
more we are led to slaughter.