How can one who cannot control his hunger
Ever hope to find love that, in of itself, is controlled?
Yearned for, it is not love only
But love and an equilibrial
Recalibration of the soul’s gyro.
The millstone of our own desires
Drags us to the bottom of our hungry sea.
The scavenger who hunts,
Food for the eyes,
Msg for the soul.
Always hungry,
Never sated.
My hunger is a might voice.
Bellowing to be fed.
The wolves who rend and tear
My soul, the meat of the sheep.
I am, but I wish to be not.
To be not hungry for anything;
I am a slave to my flesh.
My task-masters,
My bended knee.