To touch and hold, out, he briefly reaches,
He touches softly the ear with his hand,
The defense of the creature he breaches,
From warm ears to snout, his kind touches
spanned.
Slowly time passes, ensuring their trust,
Relinquishing power, unable to see,
Peacefully, the deer sighs into the dust,
Defenseless, with not a desire to flee,
The small dagger, the man carefully draws,
To the neck of the small fawn he places,
Yet more demise, the instrument will cause,
The pulse of the creature’s neck he traces.
From the fawn’s limp neck, the red slowly
drips.
And through the creature’s nose, the last
breath slips.