And you even ate from Master’s old plate.
Day after day you added weight for nothing;
Did I not tell you about Xmas? Did I not?
Did I not tell you to curse your meal?
Maybe then you would have another year seen!
Now in tethers, Can you strut around again?
Poor you, no weeping time any more.
For neither your tears nor bleats
Will avert the justice of Master’s thirsty knife!
Soon, she will ride your neck to and fro
Like she did your brothers’ in years gone;
Soon, your goatee will be forgotten in the fire;
Soon, your seasoned flesh will fill festive stomachs.
So lay bare your sins now for time is up
And there is no better chance to confess!
Written by: John Eva
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.