There's a flock of dead sheep
still where they lay.
Easy to count em
I'll get sleepy that way.
I see ones a lying
Mirth's facially expressed
I think I envy him
he smiled right into death.
I see another could be his brother
cause they all look the same.
Though I've heard that some Sheppard's
can correctly call them by name.
Counting the Sheep would be easy,
it's these faces of death that's hard
to go to sleep counting dead sheep
with philosophies of a Bard.
Will need to see if I poaated this yet under different name.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I will definitely be looking at more of your work, great stuff.