Poor little lamb among the wolves, innocent and pure.
It is the reason of your existence, no need to be demure.
You were born to be the prey, do not weep.
Run to your mother and pray before your blood seep.

Vile wolves around the lamb, all guilty and conceited.
Straighten your camb, for this moment you lived.
You will die as a predator, do not grin.
Run to your inheritor after you commit the sin.

Rueful sheep your chance to elope, do not look back.
Fresh progeny will develop if your body is in tact.
Mirthful cub your day to hatch, do not hesitate.
Detrited lineage you shall match, unless you will desolate.