My Ravenous Nature

This entry will merely amount to being a (hopefully) short reflection upon my ravenous nature. I am not famished, nor am I overly dehydrated, nor am I in despair. Yet somehow, I find myself laying my head at the feet of these demagogues. Ravens perch among the thrones of dissatisfaction. They stare below at the single earth with seven billion worlds to occupy its space. I doubt that the space even sought after occupancy and that occupancy is simply a chauvinist. She is missing and so is he. My dissatisfaction flourishes from the roots of lust, and also my inability to accept their distance from me. But is the distance in their worlds equivalent to the distance that I observe? Ravens cease to fly when their hearts are ravenous.