Was walking along, lost in thoughts
when I chanced upon those men,
their eyes fixed on the ground,
with a hungry gaze searching for something.
“What is it?” I asked, trepidation building up.
“It is vicious” said one, “poisonous” said other
“Crawled away so fast, must be deathly” quipped another.
Then my eyes fell upon their prize, a small being seeking refuge.
I shuddered at the sight of the ambush and pleaded to let it go.
“Yes, we will take it somewhere else, give a bag if you have one”
I fumbled to take out what I thought would save the poor soul,
but a deathly blow had already been dealt.
I gasped, asking why did it have to be done?
Its body writhing with pain gave way to a corpse lying still.
“It would have died anyway, it fell from a tree,” they said,
all the while barely wiping the look of triumph on their face,
proud to have killed the “vicious, poisonous” being,
“But why kill it” I ask again, helplessly staring at them,
A bunch of vicious, poisonous beings celebrating a murder.
I touched its cold body, but the world felt colder still.
Consumed by shame and guilt, I continued walking,
lost in thoughts, grief, and anger.