Give Me Thanks

"O Blessed Bird," you cry, drawing near to me with your lips while your hearts are still far from me [imitation].  So easily you forgot to give—where are these, my blessings [anastrophe]?  A missing head, a lack of feet, and crispy skin bereft of plume.  This is not a gift, nor is it a way of thanking me [litotes]!  It is an outrage!  To slaughter me though I be innocent, then devour my flesh.  Such an act is a crime—a sin!  "To be used sparingly," and "only in times of winter, or of cold, or famine," God commands regarding this abominable act [epicrisis].  Yet here I stand, if I had the legs, preaching to you pudgy pigs [alliteration]!  Even so, I, myself, have been made fat with the stuffing plunged up my nether regions.  Disgusting!  Vile [exclamatio]!  And then you make me stew in the filthy drippings of my own corpse!  Wretched beings!  Would that I were returned to the Mother Earth and spared this ignominious fate [personification].  I am the dirt you till, the air you breathe, and the water you drink [prolepsis].  Wilt thou have mercy and finish the deed?  Why doth this fowl occurrence recur year after year [paronomasia]?  Is this not enough?  Must my kind never find rest [pysma]?  Brothers, sisters, those fallen prey to the ravenous beast known as man: cry not, for the end is soon upon us.  O sweet release [apostrophe]!  Come, gather us under thy wings!