Empty husks searching for sustenance lusting for blood,
Living only in the now oblivious to the oncoming flood.
From parasites to fish to the multi-limbed abominations,
They are driven to destroy regardless of condemnations.
Only thru the sacrifice of those below can they survive,
A circular cycle of feasting from which life is derived.
A dream much like the pendulum swinging without an end,
Will be disintegrated by the forces on which it depends.
For this circular cycle is really quite a tight spiral,
Spinning inward instead of outward as existence is viral.
Acceptance is irrelevant as it has already been decreed,
The pattern ends when there is nothing on which to feed.