The chrysalis cracked
  and what emerged

was deadly and beautiful.
I kept it
until the beast

could no longer be fed.
  Released into the wild
my child bred pestilence
  and collapsed every structure

brazen enough to stand
  in its path. Finally,
I could avoid my
  fate no further and surrendered
to sate its rapacious need.  

History will call me a hero.

I caught a case of curiosity
and, digging,
unearthed a chasm.

Scars
are grooves on a record:
run your finger along an edge
and they surrender their story.


Hers were harvested
like culling from a cadaver.

Protests
were discarded
easily as a hunter
sheds offal from a ****.