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The Hunter Mourns His Kill |
I shot down. The bird from the sky. It fell at my feet. Still alive, But barely. I crushed it’s skull beneath my boot. Taking the brains from its skull, Smearing them on the concrete. I took the flight from it wings. It lay stiff there in front of me. I fall to my knees, In realization of what I had just done. Stained my once virgin hands, Red with blood. Broken into tears, Before the now lifeless corpse. I realize my mistake. My greediness, My shear disregard. But it’s a little too late now isn’t it? To shed tears means nothing. They will not bring the bird back to the sky. It’s wings forever flightless. I did this to you. Me. I was jealous of how you looked there, High in the sky. But know that I will always remember your true beauty. In life and in death. You may decay, But you will never leave this spot. Where you fell that day. I will gaze upon you for all eternity. I will never forgive myself for what I have done. Know that. But do not forgive me. Your killer. Your lover. I deserve this pain That burns within my heart. For it is incomparable to the pain of life cut short. With that said, I hope you have gained your strength back, Risen above me and bettered yourself. I hope that you fly higher and more elegant than ever before. The words whispered from a killer’s mouth Are nearly always the same. “ I love you” My victim. My beauty. My everything… |