The headman

As I walked down the farm's dusty lane
Thinking about the sheep before the shearer
The thousand sheep facing the pain
Of blood and stomach becoming much wearier

Then the horsemen came shattering by
Stood in front the headman with black whip
The bleating sheep waiting on why
Their breath thirsty in water's silent sip

One particular sheep took fright
And the headman saw this and gave chase like thunder
For this poor beast in blood's bloodiest sight
The whips and lashes of a cracking blunder

It died before my stinging eyes
Choking on its own phlegm and death's ugly breath
For all the sins and all the lies
Lying in the grass' red stained mess

And when the day was dutifully done
These worn beasts herded and baited
I wondered if the headman had indeed won
Or if he could have passed and merely waited

Ay he was a cruel bastard
The headman such he was
Made life lie in a crass casket
Of rum's own sorrow and fleeced loss

'twas upon this land I was born
Across these plains a carcass rot
In dreams marred by the headsman's scorn
For the star above this beast's final lot