Ruthless Slaughter of the Pigs

*I wrote this many years ago at the age of 16.*

This is my story of hatred for glory
for hero's this war we had waged at our quarry.
A pig, yes this boar we, in cold blood, destroyed he
at night as quietly as that of the cold seas
crash up on the rocky land of Purgatory.
We set to destroy he, now please don't ignore me
or my allegory, of this I implore thee.
Though might it seem gory or derogatory
it is necessary to make known this plight.

With war in our presence, it is what the word is
that other pigs heard this, how we massacred it's
loved brother reffered to as the pig previously.
And oh, how absurd that we humans concurred this,
that pigs were as harmless as that of a birds kiss.
While hatred now stirred in the place where the pigs lived,
so soon as they heard this they came in the darkness.
As quickly as birds kiss, they came in the night.

Moved on by hatred, the pigs were by fate led
and much dedicated to stand for a friend dead.
Though we'd not expected, they retaliated
for something we hated, for what they held sacred.
No moment they wasted, not once hesitated,
for justice awaited to calm devastated
pigs who had vacated their land and created
an army related to vengeance and hatred.
For we desacrated the pigs who we hated
as they made their way while preparing to fight.

So while we were sleeping, the pigs began creeping
remeniscant of weeping while humans were sleeping.
They couldn't keep keeping on quietly weeping
for lives that we cheapened, for angers we deepened.
They couldn't keep weeping while bodies were heaping.
How could we be sleeping? How could we be right?

Out from the stream moved the creatures unseen
like robotic machines that were brought to extremes.
And from within my dreams I could hear distant screams
of the lovliest queen whom we could not redeem.
But the pigs didn't seem to be willing to deem
that our souls,though unclean,were not meant for these means
For they'd too often seen our intolerant schemes
and by now it would seem that excuses were trite.

The humans awoke in a blanket of smoke
for our village afire was enraged to provoke
the pain of the pigs on which humans now choke.
And the pigs never spoke until one of the folk
with but one simple stroke of a sword fighting broke.
From the hatred provoked on that night in the oaks
caused our land to be soaked with blood in the night.

There were murderous yells, and the ringing of bells
and the air had a smell from my visions of Hell.
On this moment I dwell for our innocence fell
when temptation compels us to evils expelled,
when our souls we would sell so our lives could be well.
So the pigs came to Hell to stand up in rebel.
This fortune which fell, we brought onto ourselves
by our hatred which swells from inside of our shells
but of this we can't tell, we can't see in the light.

A cloud was the skies as it's darkness implies
that were demoralized by our actions and ties.
When I woke I would rise to go fight in the sties
because I, like the rest, had believed in the lies.
What I heard were the cries that would fall and then rise
every time a pig dies for a humans cheap highs.
On this we relied to keep up our disguise,
for if one of us tried to remain civilized
we would be ostrasized for traitorous crimes.
But I soon became wise when looked in those eyes.
I could then sympathize whith this pig and his spite.

The soldiers fought on as I stood on the lawn.
I could see what we'd done. Our regrets, we had none.
So I cried to this one with his weapon withdrawn
but compassion was gone for his hate was too strong.
I would drop to the lawn for the end had begun.
My killer had run. As I fell he was gone.
Now I'm left here alone in the midst of my own
uncontrolably moans as my blackness turns white.

The pigs continued fighting on
in hopes that they could right our wrong.
The humans though, were just too strong.
The humans slaughtered every one.
Until the last of them were gone,
their bodies streched across the lawn.
The soldiers played their victory song
while all the humans sang along.
Happy for what they had done
they danced into the break of dawn.
This world in which I lived upon,
a part of it, I wanted none.
The humans felt not sorrow once through all of which took place that night.

But here's where I leave you. My life will be gone too.
But first I must ask you to do what you can do
to stop them from killing and eating their pig stew.
For we never knew, had not even a clue
that our killing was wrong, though was it taboo.
I ask only of you what you feel to be true.
I must ask you to do what you know to be right.