Innocent Kill

Passion buried underneath,

Sprouted with wings,

Hoping for nourishment,

Desperate to be world's possession,

Fear held my dear passion,

Society, parental love,

Somewhere my own consciousness,

Kept chopping outgrown wings,

Brutally perishing it's existence,

Choice lingered in background,

Conscious or subconscious,

Either way, My choice,

Go for an innocent Kill;

Or sprout like a raising star,

Perhaps I choose the later,

What would you choose?