The Hunger

The Hunger.......written by me.

A kestrel flies
In clear calm skies
circling on the heat.
Hovering, waiting to make a pass
at some wee beast in the long green grass,
Its sustenance is meat.

It does not admire the mouse
or worry for the mouses spouse
they are the fuel it needs to live.
No question of what's wrong or right
No conscience keeps it from its flight
no mercy can it ever give.

Inflicting death without hate
a constant hunger must be sate
or cease to draw another breath.
The struggle is the same for all
no matter how large or small.
Life exists consuming death.

Nice addition to the collection of writing here Squack. Interesting how it is told from the kestrel's perspective.

Thank you.