Hey Mr Shepherd

Hey mr Shepherd
The chosen one
You feed us your sermon
to weave up an illusion
Don't stare into my eyes
I will expose your lies
You promise the holy land
your torture we withstand
Our heads to the ground
petrified by your hounds
You protect us from the predators
and lead us to the abbattoirs
You skin us alive
You feast on our meat
All I have to say
The predator too is the prey
You fail to realise  
you are being devoured alive
Surely someday you will die
In the grave as you lay
It will be the maggot's field day