He skips,

And trips,

Fast like a shooting star,

But it will find its prey wherever they are.

It shrieks,

He weeps,

Night now gets no sleep;

A wolf must be able to hunt its sheep.

In the woods where nothing is good,

Where hope has never stood,

Far stood his neighborhood,

But close stood it and tree wood.

He’s caught,

He’s not,

Not feeling an ounce of joy;

He’s shaking in its hand like a pathetic, small boy.

He bleeds,

He feeds,

Its mouth and sharp teeth

Chowing down— chomping like he’s ground beef.

With a stalking stance that could scare a bunch,

It munched his head off with a sick crunch,

It continues to munch its dinner, its lunch,

Before it finds more victims for next brunch.

-

Probably doesn’t sound like dr Seuss but that’s fine 😭