Hunger
A monster lurks inside my dungeons
She has a cold- hot fiery temper that
scorches the innards of my castle
like a dry boiling ice-tar that blackens
my day and claws with stony ghost-nails
at my walls until my foundations
totter
then my gates fail to hold
and let the wild coastal winds
howl through the corridors
I can literally feel the stench
of her scorn rising up the spiral
towers a rage that tightens the chains
and asphyxiates every resident
with such intense grip
all are threatened to the point
of death my every sinew
every bone and internal organ flails
in the assault of her insatiable bitter emptiness
