Nothing Happened Here. Wait... Why Are You Crying? Poem by Shasta Bhutani

Hidden within the halls
lived the dream of a hunter's grief.

"Please be sorry,
please be sorry,
please be sorry, "
whispered the prey.

But the prey, trembling, cried at last,

"I shan't forgive.
I shan't forgive.
I shan't forgive."

Through endless corridors it fled,
its voice echoing against the walls—

"Please be sorry…
please be sorry…"

Until at the end of the hall
it slipped and fell—
not to the floor,
but out of its dream.

And there the hunter stood,
weeping.

"I am sorry, " he said.

The prey awoke,
for the dream had become reality.
Its voice was soft,
shaking like a fragile leaf.

"I forgive.
I forgive.
I forgive."

It thought:

Ah, I must die here and now,
for there is nothing greater than this.

If life were to continue,
all the rest would disappoint.

It looked into the hunter's eyes,
an honest smile on its face.

"Kill me now
with the hands that hurt me.

Kill me now, this second.
Kill me for good—
for my joy."

And the halls fell silent.