End of an Innocent

In the shadow,

Of a bloody dawn,

She cowers alone,

On a sterile metallic surface.

Knowing instictively,

Something is wrong,

Despite the soft words,

Of her handlers.

She does not phantom,

The depth of her dispair,

Nor the tragic accepted,

Brutality of man.

Is her death less tragic,

For your sanction,

And feeble explantation?

Is it less tramatic,

For the fact,

That her blood will not run?

Your soft words of death,

Are no comfort to her soul.

As the gas boils,

Will you watch,

As she struggles to breathe?

Her knowing eyes frantic,

As she scratches, flops, and gasps.

Nails clicking,

On the forlorn floor.

As she tries to escape,

Your sentence for a crime,

Of only homelessness.

She mews a scream,

Of a lost child,

Pleading for her life,

Can you hear her?

This sound should haunt,

As she looks into your soul,

With eyes beginning to glass,

Trying to grasp a why,

That even I do not understand.