The Hunger

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In the darkness it growled
Over the cruel wind it howled
In a life it's own it prowled
Etched in fear it scowled

With power it rumbled
Not once has it stumbled
Not quiet had it mumbled
With more power had it grumbled

It would not be humbled
For it had not fumbled
While it felt a little jumbled
It had not bumbled

He opened his mouth in fright
For a sound he could not smite
Had come to trouble him in his blight!

Oh it roared!
As though pierced by sword
In fright he screamed 'Oh Lord!'
He fell abhorred

What could tame this beast?
Would it take the least?
Perhaps a seasoned priest?
Or simply that which is made with yeast?

No this was nor ordinary beast
For it had been released
And it would take at least a feast

To bring it to its knees
I could make a joke of bees
But not here with these
So if you would please
Give this man some cheese!

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