My smell makes me sick,
My actions do me worse.
A mighty heart is breaking,
I fear my soul is cursed

A creator has made a joke of me.
Made me have a heart.
Made me have such tiny arms,
To keep me close to my crime.

Eat to live,
To eat to kill,
To kill to fracture,
Families.

Why is it to survive,
I have to bring such pain?
Why is it my very life,
is morally profane?

Perhaps my creator has forgotten me,
Left my twisted soul as a testament,
To the cruelty of nature,
Unable to keep a body and soul alive.

Leather-like skin,
Painted emerald,
I rush into a clearing,
A herd of prey in sight.

I know it▓s wrong,
so very not right,
I roll back my eyes,
And take a lethal bite.