My Life, Your Prize | The Hunted Animal’s Perspective
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Slaughtered for the wealthy man’s pleasure
Bloody with bullet holes on the ground
In the primal act of hunting, my ancestors took an arrow thru their hearts
Slaughtered for the wealthy man’s pride
Rush gone
The man’s heart no longer racing
I lay here, lifeless & dirty, waiting to be hauled faraway
Slaughtered for the wealthy man’s idea of power
Today my head hangs among others
With lively eyes and sterilized
Scattered throughout his mansion
Irrelevant
I’m one of the wealthy man’s many trophies
Slaughtered for the wealthy man’s pleasure
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