Memento Mori

From time to time groups of people turn on a single individual in a nasty way and make them prey for the hunt. The group may not understand how exactly that came to pass.

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I can still smell

That infectious cordite

As we hunted you

With our whispers

 

As we boldly corralled

And chased

And hounded

With our magazine of justifications

 

And as you ran

So erythrocyte scented

The mantelpiece called out

Of its gaping vacuum

 

How proud we were

At your stumble

Your quiver

And your fall

 

What brave

How powerful

And magnificent

We are

 

And now the cabinet

Collects a sepia dust

That shine, that tarnish

Our Albatross slain