Stale and suffocated they serve as the voyeurs,
Their eyes hopelessly drawn to the centerpiece.
Claws unsheathed flanking lips dripping in lust,
They claim the soul for which they have a lease.
Darkened hallways flicker with turmoil abound,
At this moment a great chase chooses to begin.
Battle they may to keep the truth buried deep,
Parts carelessly penetrate the manicured spin.
Yet there is no prize here anybody can claim,
For the cage is empty and its prisoner freed.
If they weren't so concerned with the feeding,
They could focus on the sustenance they need.
Alas this is not reality so the game is afoot,
Players in motion quite unaware of the script.
If you want to mourn their aggressive battle,
You need only realize their world has flipped.