Hey there good-looking. Thanks for stopping by. I'm a new Voice Actor/Musician and I like you. If you like the way I talk, then baby we were men't to be. So PM me and we'll let nature take it's course ;)

Spoken bits.

The Shell.

From the midst of nothing, an egg is born, torn into being from dust.

Pork, beef, cheval; all gathered in witness.

“A yoke! A yoke!” they cried.

Celebrating his mother’s fitness.

But soon their eyes drank despair, was it his fate too to be fried?

Pork fled, beef hid its head, “why!” the cheval said.

“Do not cry for me,” Spoke the shell, “I do not fear knife or oven, for I know my fate

lies between bread. ”

“Oh! Most noble, gentle, poultry,” cried the farm,

“You are to great for the likes of us!”

“No my friends, for all us grazers are bid for crust.”

The Sun.

Time passed, and soon egg hatched, and chick spawned.

All meats listened to the fowl’s song.

Bouncing too and fro, the chick brought happiness wherever he go.

His golden fleece could do no wrong.

Many new lights passed,

Then one day the rooster doth crow.

Hearing his voice, every able beast massed.

For this was to be his final call.

“Tender fellows, my friends, the light of this day doth begin to dim,”

“In these final moments I ask you not to cry for me; but to remember my squall,”

“To think not of the bitterness of death, but the life my end may bring.”

The Fool.

Led away with his head held high,

For he was soon to die.

Oh! A more noble fool there never was!

Doth thine righteous cock know that he is but stock?

Soon to be separated from his flock by a meat maid in a smock.

Oh! Thine gentle cock!

Time has rung, its twelve o’clock.

“Ssshing!”

The Knife.

Grit grind grate,

Steel wool tearing flesh from my face!

Slice “slop!” slate,

Prime cut, rare grade, pith in a blessid place.

Crush crack crumble,

A pools filling and god willing, I’ll drink red ambrosia till I’m dead!

Hee Haw Haa,

Gibbs, gists, and guts gobbled down; A glutton with a bone crown.

Saw sever salt,

Would you not eat your own fingers for hunger?

BOOM BOOM BOOM!

The Meal.

“FOOTBALL!”

Does middus agous human know from whence his drumstick came?

Does he cry for the poultry that feeds his need?

Is its purity preserved or discarded like the severed head?

For the most honorable chicken fulfilled with courage the task for which it was bred.

And now like all things will its noble spirit rest with the dead.

Does its heavenly brawn feed greats the likes of Alexander and Caesar?

Or are they to be relegated to some lowly keeper?

Can any other task befall a gizzard in heaven?

A poor fate for something so brave, to think! Eternal consumption by a knave!

So when thine noble meat you most desperately crave, if but for a moment your lust

may stave, a most worthy soul you are sure to save.

Doth thou scoff at the beak because it is yellow?

Could you with thine own fingers wring the neck of the innocent?

What a cruel fate that has befallen mans fellow!

Created to be breaded and boiled, molded and drowned in acidic imprisonment.

A feathered Christ, a martyr for all farmed.

The End.