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