I found her near a large Oak in the woods,
Not far from where that old cabin stood,
She was sputtering blood and not far from death,
I hadn't much water, but I gave her what was left,
Her eyes so weary and the purest black,
I felt heartless and wondered what her attacked,
Her wounds malicious and so very deep,
Yet she didn't convulse or even weep,
The Sun was almost rising then,
I wondered what compelled such men,
She had been, the passed night, all alone,
I knew all she wanted was Home,
And slowly her eyes went right to mine,
At that moment, I knew inside,
I watched every ounce pass from this life,
I sat there, pathetic, wondering if I could cry,
I heard her last painful and drowning breath,
She heard, like a gavel, my passing steps.