Moonlit concrete canyons echo with howls.
                   Signal midnight terror!  Packs are on the prowl!
                                                      
                     Demonic toothy grins with lunar glow aglint
                    suggest savage passions with more than a hint.
                           Cowering sheep paralyzed with fright
                 look to wary shepherds on guard through the night.
                             Ravenous rovers mate fang to fleece,
                        predatory prowlers drawn by plaintive bleats.
              Lobos fear no shepherds’ dogs nor bullets from their guns,
                      they only fear the cage, wolves were born to run.
                                                    
                     Death may be their destiny but living is the chase.
             They’ll run the neon jungle ‘til they’re killed or catch a case.