Like the powerless gazelle watching its calf being eviscerated ravenously by an insensitive feline, we mourn absurdly the perennial tragedy. Why? What monster could have committed this atrocity?
The mirror’s shards are scattered throughout one’s life, beneath soles and soiled frying pans, reflecting only the chosen glamor. The fiend never revealed himself from the shadows where his reflection was unattainable due to the lack of light. However, its bullets reached the mundane with velocity and gravity was acknowledged for one in the house of everybody’s lord.
The blood was draining into the gutter like the phlegm of a drunken ex union worker. Expelled and exhaled from its habitat without its will. Yesterday, the bullet reached the soul. The cobs were slaughtered before they had a chance to butcher on their own, remotely via a drone. Yet, they might have not.
The gazelle moved on to the next meadow, mating relentlessly while grazing and envisioning a world where the feline didn’t open a chain of grocery stores.
While the drought arose from between the seasons and the milk was enough for only two out of the four offspring.