There is violence
Thrashing
A gnashing of teeth
Burning
Tossing, turning
A smell of ash
That leaves one distraught
A hunger
Packed within a thirst
That pales the face
Drains the blood
And leaves an emptiness most hazardous
Dangerous

And what stands as sharpened blades
Broods internally
Biding, biting
Waiting
Anticipating moments of weakness
Unshaken
Under the skin
Itching
Tearing and roaring
Inside a cage
Composed of silence
The wolf within the man