"Calm the beast, will ya?" the stable man cried, 
as the wind howled fierce, and the night grew wide. 
The creatures stirred, in their hunger deep, 
with hollow eyes, they could hardly sleep.

The horses stamped, the wolves let out a call, 
beneath the moon, nature’s hunger sprawl. 
Their bellies ached, their throats ran dry, 
their growls a chorus to the darkened sky.

"We can't, sir! They're wild, untamed," he swore, 
"They haven't eaten for days, maybe more!" 
The earth beneath them seemed to quake, 
as beasts and men felt nature's wake.

Through barren fields, through woods once green, 
they craved the life that had never been seen. 
Nature’s hunger knows no rest, 
in survival's game, all are put to test.

The stable shook, the night wore thin, 
for the wild ones, only hunger wins. 
And in the air, a promise wild, 
nature’s wrath can never be mild.