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What a wicked man you were!
You praised me-
for being a good lamb
Yet secretly you were counting the worth
of my fur;
and preparing the slaughter of me-
for a good lamb soup on your dinner table…
I watched your wickedness in tears
Not because I was unaware
But because I did love you
When I finally had enough of me being
a good sacrificial lamb
when I finally had enough of your wickedness
You turned your praise into fierce condemnation-
for me becoming a dangerous villain
You spread the villain stories of me slandering my name
Yet secretly I was feeling worried even sorry towards you
Not because I was worried about my own name
Not because I was sorry that you couldn't recognize WHO is behind my name
But because I knew you would hurt yourself much more in the end-
what goes around comes around, as always
Only if you could know,
The wicked game you played on me will be played on yourself-
on your own consciousness as how this kind of game always goes
It was never about if I was a good lamb or a bad villain
It has everything to do with your own being, your own soul
your own consciousness and your own false conceptions
I was merely a mirror of your own lamb-ness and villain-ness
So
wicked man,
Until
you could see the beauty in your own lamb-ness
Until
you could face your own villain-ness with love and forgiveness
Even
you thought you knew everything about me
In
truth you knew nothing about me at all...
So
wicked man,
As poverty of a soil can be nurtured even after a bad storm
As beauty of a rose can be appreciated even after its thorns
Nothing
is what it seems
I
am NOT what you think I am
Neither
are you
(Notes: The ‘I’ and ‘you’ used here are impersonal.)
