A.N. - I did this poem on a title propmt, and it had to rhyme. This is the result.


Hidden from his intended quary
the carnivore sits patiently.
Waiting for his victim to falter
and leave him an opportunity.

One ill-timed blink and he's off
to capture tonight's big prize.
The prey is caught flat-footed
against an opponent twice his size.

A squelch and the skin is pierced.
Scared eyes dart to and fro
as the last vestiges are drained.
The predator does not let go.

Torn flesh dangles limp
in a mouth dripping crimson.
A predatory smile unfurls,
bearing the killing weapon.

Alabastor teeth stained
with remnants of the prey
tear into the departed
for nournishment this day.

A meal is to be savored,
the hunt to be revered.
The kill is near orgasmic,
the stalker to be feared.