Just the word makes me feel right at home.

No heart, no soul. Bitter taste in me mouth—

Fowl;

fowl as the way you broke me. Ruined me. Took my senses with you.

Took them fast, nerve endings still attached, too.

Compressed, shaken, flattened, and torn, I now wish I wasn't born. Bound to the Earth by my own two feet. Too proud to jump and let go.

My eyes may be blind, but my heart surely does see, sees the hatred you left flailing in the path of destruction that follows you.