Sniffing and sniffing and sniffing the room.
I lurk amid shadows planning your doom.
I circle and sniff and position myself right,
to take you down with the least bit of fight.

For I may be cunning,
and quick just as lightning ,
but I wish for only one thing,
and that is control.

Prowling and stalking and preying I go,
hoping you’ll accept what we both may know,
that soon enough I’ll swallow you down,
and in my guts you’re sure to drown.

For I may be vicious,
and cruel as cold death,
but I wish for one thing,
and that’s to be fed.

Round and round and round I go,
when I will stop, nobody can know,
I’m millions of years of instinct,
a creature discerning, distinguished, distinct.

For I am merciless,
and do love to kill,
for little else but,
the passionate thrill.
Still, I’ve only one wish,
to eat when I will,
so could you please,
my bowl, fill?