Warning: I'm an atheist. Take what you will from this poem. Oh, and I don't own the nursery rhyme.  

Wolves in His flock

Baa baa black sheep

on the breeze

child's voice

innocent

have you any wool?

stone church

numbing cold

soulless

empty

yes sir, yes sir, three bags full

forced to fit the mould

beaten into line

burn the demons out

rape what you fear

one for the master, one for the dame

and one for the little boy that lives down the lane

holy trinity

what a dream

what a lie