Vapors

The watchers lit small fires
Along the runner's path
As the pack chased a rabbit
In a circle to the square
The vapors from their mouths rising
On frozen drool and glazed stares
Along a road of suffering
Paved by anyone who falls
When they arrived to the finish
Hungry enough to tear
The cold flesh of an animal
Whose brittle bones they bare 
A song was played in their honor
Their melody hummed in fear
A contest for closure
Their conquest of the year