When I see men feeding themselves with
vicious meat food,
It is ever-recurring grief to me;
I tremble, I faint, my flesh shrinks,
You do know my sore-troubled mind,
My exhausted mind, my Master
He expressed again and again his horror of killing:

I shuddered at the horrid killer’s
swift-descending axe on the prostrate life.
When with my eyes I saw
the terrible agony of taking life away,
or the fishermen’s net on the sand
with bait, or rope with noose, or trap,
Lord, Lord, my Father, You do know,
How, how, shall I utter my agony?

Source: Vallalar - Messenger of Grace Light, p. 23