Spike Minus Fourteen

Her failure is mine

That she was supposed to corral the wild herd
of my mind, the wild lambs, and one by one lead
them through the narrow passway, to the still
place, where each would stand, observed, noted, taken
in, and then be slaughtered.
Slaughtered?
Yes Slaughtered, turned into words, and released
into the breath of the world.