A Dying Fowl Poem by Agboyi Felix

Oh.How in contrite I watched it bleed till death!
I terminated through slay, that virgin throat
for the pleasure of my gnawing.
I watched in quiver
it's blood oozing into the air
and down with weight,
the earth it came with warm imploring ease.
In a restless bid, it beat for breath,
but it had it not.
How I wish I could mend the hurt.
But the pipe has
already been cut awide.
It had flesh, soul and sense.Yet
I slayed without pity
untill the aftermath.I'm sorry I triggered its death.
I've sinned! I've sinned!