A New Poetry Slam

Executioner's Eye

It stands to reason
This being the metaphor of
The execution of all things
Considered you and me
As some bold act of charity
Seen only as treason

I am
The pilot of this radio-tested program
Sent over airwaves
In the middle of an air-raid
Targets holding steady
In full range and explicit view
Of the finger on my trigger
Ready to unleash the unspeakable pain of destruction
Self-inflicting and self-imposing
I've never known the likes of bell-tower girls
Such as yourself
I am
Trigger-Happy

You were a wolf in sheep's clothing
Everyone ignored my pleas
And used me as a scapegoat
Now I'm left to find myself
In the wreckage of this unchartered forest
I mistook for just a landmass of trees, scattered
Homes for birds, bears, and bees
Here I am, left to crawl upon my weighted knees
Weighed down from the knowledge of your existence

How's the view now, dear
From beneath the remnants of your crumbled ivory tower
As it seems to be
Only pieces
Much like the pieces of you
I've found
Left
Inside of me