Withering Surface

A delicate course served well
From the menu I wouldn't tell
As the intimate whispers dwell
And the grease flows
Now turn your back, please
Feed now, a blink, an inch of self esteem
Applause rounds off, within minutes you swoon
As you feed the wolves your eyes blitz of loss
As you feed the wolves I barely understand
The third course starts to smell
From the,emu it makes no sense