“My sheep within the saleyards break the heart of God.
My sheep within the saleyards dismay the heart of God,
embed the heart of God,
direct the heart of God.
My sheep within the saleyards include the lambs of blessing,
include the hoggets with their outlooks on life,
include the sheep of substance with time still left to serve.
My sheep within the saleyards have been stolen from the shepherd,
have been stolen by the wolves,
have been stolen to fill an order,
have been stolen to be matched with the highest bidder.
My sheep within the saleyards are terrified and filled with dread,
are dismayed and concerned for others,
are separated and strive to find their lambs.
My sheep within the saleyards are not free to move,
are constricted and held in check,
are supervised and marshalled both on age and on appearance.
My sheep within the saleyards are awaiting an auction,
an auction where the rams of Satan descend into the pits as animals at large,
descend below the lower ebbing of immorality—
as rams do mount the rams both night and day,
as rams do mount and move on to the next,
as rams do mount until exhausted by their urges.
My sheep within the saleyards have their future limited as the shepherds seek and search:
in an endeavour to recover both the stolen and the invited;
the trapped and the imprisoned;
the sought and the ransomed;
the victims and the immature;
the frightened and the terrified;
the wounded and the dazed.
My sheep within the saleyards await the calls of animals,
see the gathering of the packs of wolves as they slobber at the gates,
as they enter to feel and touch,
as they evaluate for the filling of the orders.
My sheep within the saleyards mill about in anguish,
attempt to comfit one another,
pray for their release.
My sheep within the saleyards note the wolves in control,
hear the gavel fall upon a shout,
see the drafting for a destination within a dark interior,
feel the heat and the exhaustion stemming from the lack of care.
My sheep within the saleyards are blindfolded and restrained,
are silenced with a gag,
are threatened into silence as their legs are trussed.
My sheep no longer in the saleyards suffer,
cry within their fears,
are scared of all they witness since the timing of their capture.
My sheep no longer in the saleyards are sent as freight to their destinations,
are sent in trucked containers or on the ships at sea,
are sent according to the bidding and the lust of wolves—
pretending to be righteous and fitted out with means.
My sheep no longer in the saleyards know not where they’re going,
know not where they’ve been,
know not what awaits them on arrival at the scene.
My sheep no longer in the saleyards are accustomed to the darkness,
are accustomed to being trundled,
are accustomed to encountering the ructions and the waits.
My sheep no longer in the saleyards hear the bolts withdrawn,
the creaking accompanying the opening of the doors,
the surprised expressions of the men in uniform,
the assistance and the aid with the helping down,
the assurances that their journeying is over and all is well as freedom is regained.
My sheep no longer in the saleyards are reunited after feeding and a rest,
are reunited with familiar faces,
are the fortunate and blest,
are the rescued in recovery, are secure in their safety,
are now valued much more highly than they were before.
My sheep no longer in the saleyards are now out upon the pasture,
see the flowing of the brooks of living water as testimonies are heard,
as counselling is received,
as the welfare of My sheep is attended to
with loving care.
Woe to those who mistreat My sheep.
Woe to those who prefer My lambs.
Woe to those who feed their depravities from among the stolen and the innocent,
the beautiful and the lovely,
the immature and the young—
both in body and in heart.
For on such surely will the wrath of God fall in might and majesty—
on the exercised freewill with the latter serving of accountability.”