To The Ones Who Made Me

The embrace you kept from me

I used to yearn for it

But time has been cruel to your mission

Your mission to be fought for...

Bled for...

Of course you will dismiss this revelation

You have done so beautifully for years

A perfect dosage of uninterest...

Discontentment...

Just enough to keep your flock nearby

Ready for the picking...

Ready for the slaughter...

Call me a stray!

Call me what you will

But WHEN you call, not IF

I refuse to be an answer

I, too occupied plotting,

Hunting...

Stalking...

My next prey... master