Prey Beware

Listen to our bellowing cries,
Crashing through the night,
A wolf pack made up of alibis,
Under the moons all concealing light.

Hear it in the howl,
The scent of the red soaked white,
We are on the prowl,
And you’re the prey tonight.

The smell of blood is pungent in the air,
Like a gas line sprung a leak;
We stop and stare,
Studying the weak.

Synchronized in paces,
We become bullets tearing through the wind;
The cold burns our faces,
As if we were skinned.

We are gaining ground,
At astonishing speed,
Yet we make not a sound,
To give you any heed.

We pounce on arrival,
Like a bolt of lightning,
It’s essential to survival,
To instill a lifeless frightening.

We don’t mess around,
As it is a matter of life or death;
You’re stomach bound,
Once we steal your breath.

Under this moon of crescent,
The rest of your crimson blood will be spilled,
Once living a life effervescent,
Is now left killed.

You have met your fate,
Before me and my pack,
You’re the entrée and the world is the plate,
As we finish our attack.

We feel no remorse,
Feeding ourselves is no crime,
Nothing personal of course,
For we all have to die sometime.

The smell of blood is the notice,
That we will soon be there;
The land will still bestow us,
So prey beware.