Your head is mounted on my wall,
Your eyes still wholly smothered
In the bleakest terror.

You took a bullet to the heart
And still kept running, trying
To get beyond me, your sniper.

I picked you from the shadows,
Knowing that you'd be my finest
Kill: my finest work of art.

I still remember how I
Victimized you; your cowardly
Shrieks as your children

Fled in terror, their eyes
Bugged wide with the gaze of
One thousand headlights.

Such fear they felt, although
I did not kill them; I killed you,
And made their days the happiest

They'd ever known: without you.

You were beneath me that day,
Beneath them, so I praised you
By immortalizing you above me

On my lonely, barren wall;
You, prey of the silent woods,
You uncouth deer.

02/03/2005