It is dark and vehement
Thinks in natural immoralities
Devours ideas and ideals
With an insatiable desire

It was the runt of the litter
Yet grew the quickest
By consuming his sibling
To near extinction

Now I feel it's appetite
I yearn for it's cravings
I beg for it's voracity
And it feeds, a little, upon me

You might of met it occasionally
In my eyes or through my touch
I have a favor to ask (?)
Will you feed it when I'm gone