I woke today with longing in my gut,
Though hunger of the heart would be too drab
“The fasting man does more to give than have”
I struggle to recall who said it, but
The words have been too powerful to tut
So, once again, I take my rations half
And gift them to the family down the ave
Then hobble back with shriveled eyes to shut
“The fasting man does more to give than have-”
I dream a voice calling to me, but why?
“To question is to lend oneself to sin”
“I know your evil!” I shout, dreaming back
Am I condemned to fast until I die?
I struggle to recall that name again…
by Ace H.