Those Young Hunters (introduced to murder by their parents)

How terribly sad, is this picture
A wild Deer lies killed, and shot through
a child decked in orange
with his tongue sticking out
This image is chilling, my view
It reaches deep into ones marrow
That a child should be pressed now to be
Involved in what is, execution
The end clearly is what we see

The significant lowering of morality
pictured there with a young child
The onus in my view on that final moment
where sanctity has been defiled
A poignant regard for a creature
A soul that’s been murdered now by
A Hunter, a man with a cross bow
Who decided this young soul must die

Answerable in fact, to no one
The, Universe and the great Code
Beholden and lacking true spirit
The Hunter, his seeds did unload
And his child, now he sits there beside it
The corpse
And the arrow of steel
That flew from the sky
and tore from on high
with such considerable zeal

Watch the innocent die
The Wild Child who plyed
The forest glades and was watched
by some sod till he died
The Hunter and his child
not show much fear
No remorse from the source
no one sheds a tear
It just shows how sadly the human psyche
now descends
into the depths of wanton lust
By slaughtering our friends

Causing them great agony
a bolt out of the blue
That scythes into the muscles
unless it does miscue
Either way its torture
and its agony
Either way its evil
it brings them misery

They cough and splutter
death is slow, as its precious blood
it showers
imagine this that ugly torturous
pain for hours and hours