They killed all the animals, they did,
I didn’t think they’d manage it
Because there were so many
So great and so small and so wise and so tall
And I thought one of them might fight back
But not a single one knew what to do
So the blades and the guns and the gasses
Got through
And they killed all the animals.
And each animal they killed
With it’s stripes or it’s wings
Or it’s young
They mourned.
They laid out the last ones and kept them
To show what they had done
And they ostensibly repented and said
Never again
And railed at all their quiet gods
Who had made them who they were
And watched
As they killed all the animals
The gods had made.
And each time they mourned
The animals stood to one side
And huddled ever tighter
And drew straws and bit each other
Over who went next.
And at the watering hole
They cried until there was more salt
Than water
And then there was no water at all
And the salt dried cracked
Like old bones
Which were indistinguishable
From the old bones which surrounded it.
And so like a creeping assassin
Humanity slunk off alone into the night
Because when all of the animals died
Humanity was no longer needed.
There was simply
Alive
Or
Dead.
