Vegan poets know a thing or two about death

The inevitable
It’s happening
Over our heads they roll
Feathers ripped off painfully
The humans lost their soul
Here we are blessed with life
By a god apparently
But Christmas is the magic word
And the ignorant now be
Culpable to murder
The markets make it clear
Eating meat is the thing we do
And we all died in fear
Hearing our fellow others
Tortured till they cried
As for vegan poets
That lot are denied

This catastrophic melee
In every slaughterhouse and farm