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…