The sheep.

What’s the 666, if not burned

on our heads,

then maybe our hearts–

a deep, monster-type

desire we keep feeding

with lies and secret scraps

of paper swallowed so

nobody can read what 

they say?

We aren’t that ink,

that paper,

those lies,

that desire,

but stranded 

sheep hoping

the sound 

of His voice

overcomes

the empty

noise

we keep 

trying

to follow

home.