Consumption

She was a vegetarian.
A kind heart,                              Never angry,
A good soul,                              Never cruel.

“Never eat the living” she’d say,
“For the living is like you and I.
You wouldn’t eat me would you?” She’d ask.

And I’d look at her
And wry a wry smile
And chuckle the question away.

And then one day
There was a problem
And the dogs had to be put down.

For they went wild                                    Killed a child
All of a sudden,                              And half a dozen

Squirrels,

And luckily (somehow)
We were not to blame.

But the shame,                              And Horror
And guilt,                                        That she felt,
Forced it’s way to her heart

And she was forced to place
The growling beasts in a cage
To take to the vet’s to be put down.

I left the room
For a glass of water then returned
And the cage door was open wide.

And the thoughts
Of death,                                        And blood
Dogs, killing,                              That entered my mind;

The thought of her being torn like the child.

But to my horrid surprise
There were the dogs
Left dead in the center of the room
While she was off aside

In the corner, full of
Blood, guts,                              And limbs,
Bones                                        And Snarling like a beast.

In the company of Death
Now a cannibal
With the consumption of dead animals.