Men Amongst Lambs

No matter how steep of a leave,
From your narrow scope of reality,
You fall deeper and yet remain,
In the vein,
Of a Stem,
In a Leaf,
Of a Tree,
For this is you,
And I am me,
Intricate pieces,
Of What is,
And isn't seen,
Our existence,
Is simply being,
Some are convinced,
Of an arrogant meaning,
Cries conforming to incessant bleating,
Led astray by a crook in tender hands,
Never walking as men amongst lambs.