Humanity in Actions

“Suffering on a smaller scale is still suffering”
The thought didn’t cross my mind until an hour had passed
The moth still skittered and slid across the laminate, unable to fly
Its’ broken wing and battered body wouldn’t allow it
Beat after beat, those wings never ceased
The pain must have been unbearable
But who am I to end suffering?
Some compassionate reaper, or a child with a god complex?
I suppose the latter could apply in both cases
In the end, I took its’ life for a second time
First being the moment I swatted it from the sky
Destroyed its’ life without a thought
Curious that I could so carelessly cause suffering, yet hesitate to end it
I suppose that makes me far from compassionate, and much closer to death
Suiting for one who lives life like a spendthrift

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