Hunger

Hunger is a quiet ache,

A hollow sound, a constant break,

It gnaws within, an endless plea,

A yearning for what’s yet to be.

A stomach tightens, voice grows weak,

The body trembles, too fatigued to speak.

The mind is clouded, heart feels cold,

As empty hands reach out for gold.

Not for treasure or for fame,

But for the simple, sacred flame,

Of food, of warmth, of something near,

To chase away this primal fear.

It isn't loud, it doesn't shout,

But hunger knows what life's about.

A hunger not just for the plate,

But for the love that conquers fate.

The world turns on this quiet need,

This hunger deep, this silent greed.

Yet still, we hope, and still, we try,

For every empty, aching sigh.