(Should have posted this a week ago.)
Prosperous black sheep sold merchandise—
precious stones and pearls, fine linen and purple, goods.
After a jittery night, many black sheep were sleeping
or feeding and mingling. June the 1st,
5:08 a.m.: a factory a whistle signaled
Judgment Day arrived! Pour the fourth bowl!
God’s wrath on this Babylon must be executed.
Ten thousand white sheep rams and baaing ewes
stampeded through streets, alleys carrying flames
and brimstone, scorching black sheep wool.
Everything into the lake of fire!
Smoke from their burning stores
and homes eclipsed the sun. Volleys
of lead hail nailed fleeing black sheep,
hobbling old ones, and their wailing lambs.
Some death angels swooped and rained
lead hail at fleeing sheep. At noon,
smoldering ashes blackened pastures, burnt stubble.
White sheep returned to their lush pastures.
Out of respect white rams buried
some 300-black sheep in hidden graves,
so no one would be defiled walking on them.
No whitewashed tombs in this town.
The shepherd serves
an eternal feast for these black sheep
in green pastures besides still waters.