THE HOLY CRAVINGS

By Mason Monteith

In my travels I found no greater hunger,

Than to desire of that which is Holy.

A craving so deep that expands so slowly,

A hollow that spreads—leaving one a-sunder.

In my travels I met many a fear-monger,

Learned of this desire, they said this unholy,

But looking at this face, I did not see one lowly,

In the reflection, I saw that of the hunter.

The craving could end, it could be put under,

It would take but one wrong, one kill, one evil,

Then it would be as though I were younger,

For who else could say they achieved such a wonder?

Though such a death will cause an upheaval,

My cravings gone forevermore—I will ascend the primeval

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