They had begun the trip back to their place of birth.
Killing as they went without caring their food's worth.
They moved with stealth and grace, like a well-oiled machine.
Their lack of fear would cause the demise of one teen.
One cannot kill without severe consequences.
You can't go through your life and burn all your fences.
This quad pack had no conscience or moral desires.
The primal game was death, to quench their inner fires.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem