by Nick Gisburne
We understand the nature of your fear,
And so we live alone, apart, in peace.
We do not steal for slaughter; all appear
Because they know their blood will bring release.
For some, it is rejection of the past,
Abandoning the hate of what they were,
But others find their universe so vast
They long for every light to blend and blur.
We take, but, in the sacrifice, we give.
The blood becomes a bargain for us both.
In death, in sweet release, at last they live,
And we, reborn, accept the gift of growth.
When life becomes too damaged to endure,
The cut, the kill, is pleasure, painful, pure.
