My darling, growing, slit-eyed brood
Soon, now, to leave my lair,
To seek your mates, and your own food.
Pause, nestlings, and prepare.
We live our lives by fang and claw,
We kill so we may live.
But I have this, one final law,
And warning still to give.
Although the hunt and chase are sweet,
And blood is best when hot,
Remember, for your glut of meat,
Kill so they suffer not.
We are ourselves--and not their kind.
They live in stealth and fear.
They huddle, dread that we shall find
And strike, when we draw near.
We need their lives to save our own.
We kill and kill again.
Have pity, strike to feed, alone.
Show mercy, even then.
It is not right to relish fear,
And foul to cause them pain.
Take freely, swiftly, elk, boar, deer,
But learn what I explain.
Someday the darkness will find you,
And you yourself will die.
And you shall know my words were true.
And I'm explaining why:
Like them we live, then live no more.
Be swift in your onslaught.
Feed, fill yourself, with flesh and gore.