Hunger.

Effortlessly lost in a 

                  wanderlust of death

Maimed by the eternal punishment of 

              her sisterhood

   Impassive, yet painfully 

                           passed by the timing of contentment,

           Or lack thereof,

       If eve does come,

    Let it compile my consumption.

  

                         It is my hunger. 

                  I only crave.

Reviews

[Valentine]

All crave contentment and to be wanted, it is called being human. Valentine

[JC]

you have so much restrained passion that wants to tear out of you like a werewolf, I can picture in a heated hunger, craving and needing something lucid and mad and real.

[Tom McRoberts]

I managed to give all your poems a quick read. I love how you've really made this form your own and managed to put it to such versatile use. Your word choice here is also wonderful, captures a very abstract, ghostly feeling of pain.

[Michael Rize]

Interesting verse, and I am struggling to understand what she craves. I am guessing she craves contentment. My favorite line is "let it compile my consumption". Very unique and phonetic choice of words. Also,thank you for your comment on my poem.