The Kill
Laid back as a cat
licking paws contently
another vicious victory
that mean little to me
for I am used to towering
over carcasses of fools
they call me an old wiser miser
that can only bear bad news
In thus I thrust all my faith at thee
for you have saved me
just a time or three
for you erased me
as quickly as we met
do you really expect
for me to just forget
What is the rut
that I am hiding in
once again I begin
to claw my way within
a place I lay dormant
until my name is spoken
then sly as the cat
I leave a window open
for my escape
when the going gets too tough
for I am just an animal
that primed in for his cut
Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2012
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