The sun slowly drfits down,
As the night,
Proceeds to take place.
Darkness covers each abandoned town,
Causing each light,
To fade from sight.
At a steady pace,
A large pack,
Of hunters with grace,
Charge through,
To their normal prey.
They race,
To satisfy their true,
Hunger without a stray,
Thought occuring in,
Each of their minds.
Teeth and claws,
Dig in deep leaving the sin,
Of death behind in all kinds,
Of ways to die that calls,
To their inner rage.
Blood splatter the walls,
And the ground,
From each kill,
They succeed,
In doing to fill,
Their predator side.
Free from the cage,
Of unsatisfaction,
Of hunger that is easily found,
From deep within that can slide,
Into ravenous behavior that starts off like a seed,
Of a tree.
Once fed,
There is only satisfaction.
Blood is bled onto the grass,
As well as it flows,
Down their throat.
Running while free,
But their pride,
Can be shattered easily like glass.
Once the hunt is done,
The run home to a remote,
Area they call home at a fast stride.
When the sun,
Rises up high,
The night fades away.
In the light,
Several bodies lay,
Shredded and torn apart.
People awake with a sigh,
In a way,
Of disgust at the disturbing sight.
The groups part,
And clean,
Away the bloody mess.
To hunters it may mean,
Nothing to them,
But that they can confess,
To the hunger that stirs within them,
Every passing night.
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