All the Wolves Are Coming to Dinner
All the wolves are coming to dinner
They harmonize in chorus
As the moon hovers and reflects off the quiet waters
Distant howls, the beggars’ serenades
I am the crumbs from their master’s table
A hearty feast for his sons and his daughters
All the wolves are coming to dinner
Bright eyes fall all upon me
They gather, a family of exquisite beasts
Saliva dripping, hitting dry, crisp leaves
A symphony of taps, such discordant beats
As they sniff the air, fragrant with this feast
All the wolves are coming to dinner
Coming and they have come
To dine upon these fleshy bones of mine
Torn, exposed, how quickly they devour
Time has no mercy in seconds passing
While creatures stumble drunk with blood wine