Deer Hunters
in the iris of the deer forest
hid three lost souls:
a dead-hearted father,
a daughter likewise,
and another with a gentler core
aiming their shotguns at the poor preys
pure eyes with eye-catching lashes
so long they filter the cruelty
of a world that doesn't care for them
a silent scene when the freckled face faces their scope
his smile grows winking at her clueless pause
she takes her last breath obliviously
a bullet pierces throw her forehead the next second
perfect aim
his eldest does the same
following his recipe like a chemist
but her expression lacks the smirk he brags with
she holds cold features rather than smug ones
bodies drop one by one
corpses of innocence succumbing to their death
as they watch their fate drop all around them
stillness interrupted only by gunshots
doubled and synced up
murderous harmony
when mumbling words of the third
cuts the tempo of their rhythm
as hesitant as she speaks
interrupts the dance of death she stood to witness
one last shot
one more life
a sigh and a furrow-browed stare
"I would rather be a mad man than a coward”