RioZee

I, a baby cow,

Always happy in the barn,

Knew not why all my brethren,

Were pale, aghast,

The air tense, knew not the game,

Necks roped in pairs,

I was compelled to walk,

The hot turf of charcoal,

Towards a destination unknown,

Two three demons with sticks,

Thrashing upon our backs,

With the force inhuman,

The long tiring stretch,

The reward, the liberation,

Blood spilled all over with a stench,

A freedom from all the bodily pains,

Ohh human, should I not thank,

For, How should I leave my kindness.

(Written for NaPoWriMo 2013 - 30 Poems in 30 Days challenge