Delicate ogres kiss shimmering necks.
One by one they take their turn to dip into the lake of lust.
Brothers bound by their need to feed -
Inhale dark vapors you beasts,
and strangle your throat.
The opposing advertisement differs: For your throats sake smoke.

They gorge on fruitful delights
and devilishly entwine fingers
in an attempt to ensnare innocence back to their lair.
Run rabbit. Run.

The streets enclose around them, and she knows no escape.
Yet these webs are carved into their backs.
They're taking this sacrificial lamb.
To pull the tender meat apart and leave nothing but a mind impinged with woe.