The Hunstman's Trophy

Hello, it’s me again! Yep, little old me, the thing you raise above the crowd one day and shove into your neglected old pile of useless junk the next.

Before all this, I was the head of one of your old enemies, with a life to live and family to love, just like you. I was killed with the spearhead of one of your arrows, from that bow you hold so dearly.

So, ask yourself again, am I really worth nothing to you?

I was hung by that very arrow string you shot the finishing blow from, and all other ones that once missed me now are hung below me. All of this is your doing, so, ask yourself one more time do I really mean nothing to you?

If you are in fact the maker of me, are you the judge or the guilty party?


You were, after all, the one who shot me and raised me above your head like a flag. You used me as a sign of victory, but in the end who has lost the most? You, the man with a guilty conscience for slaying an innocent man? Or me, the free spirit with nothing else to live for, but to loom over you like a shadow?

A shadow that you want to forget but even when the sun falls I will be there. Even when your world comes falling down around you, I will be that unwanted shadow that follows you to the bitter end, just like you did to me.

So, ask yourself again, am I really nothing or am I the thing that keeps your blood flowing as you run from my shadow?

by Matt Gilbert