Work Text:
War, they say, makes monsters of us all.
Perhaps it's true, perhaps I was just weak
Enough to follow desperation's call.
I'd hidden in the rubble for a week
And seen the smoking remnants of my town
Picked clean of all surviving souls could seek.
The hordes then left, and we were left to drown
In hunger making mind and form forget
Humanity itself. My eyes slip down.
The pair who burned to death here saved me, yet
I wish I'd just been strong enough instead
To starve and join them, still without regret.
Now only her and me, I've set
A crown of flowers on her head.
So peaceful, looks like she's asleep.
Apologies remain unsaid,
My claws caress her cheek, I weep
No tears to trickle down no nose.
I turn to leave, I wish I'd fled,
I'm famished, spineless, twist with need.
I brush aside a single rose
And falter.
And feed.