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Poem

You bury your only dog beneath a home of desecrated poppies.
Pup frozen from years of neglect, full of ignorance and stained of regret.
You claw at the dirt like one of the far-gone soldiers, and the earth knows better but to serve you.

You lay his body down Heavy, limp and soundless.
His wide eyes the color of heartbreak and broken promises, his coarse fur kissed by the signs of war.
You wear the same marks, you have the same saintless past,
But your fate is not the same.

War was your mother; she taught you learn once, not twice. She taught you dogs die and you were reborn by your own hand, born with thorns for skin and poison in your breath.

Dog and Human,
Killed and killer,

One was inhuman the other was a self-created monster.
There is a fear on the dog's face that you can only dream of. Pure light consumed by the darkness. a child of war, taken by a river of blood and the fear that led to his death. 

And you wish you had the humanity to grieve.

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