Pain, Hunger, and The Pursuit Of Happiness

[Lammy]

Strength; what is it?
Is it something that we pursue for the sake of it?
Is it something quantifiable that has a set maximum?
Or is it something from within?
Who determines these things and how long have they be in control?
And what does one do when he or she obtains it?
And what do they do on the path to strength?

Most go into hiding and reserve themselves,
Forever restraining what they could be for grander ideals,
Getting old and grey before turning to dirt.
Some use it chaotically and without remorse,
Only to fall into the cataclysmic abyss of madness.
I would never want to fall into any of these.

But what I would want to do, is to become powerful.
So no one can take from me again,
So I can take whatever I want when I desire it,
So I can never go hungry and suffer the pain of starvation.
So I can overcome the sorrow of today and brace tomorrow.

I may smell like shit,
Have leaves in my head,
And blood on my enchanted cloak.
I may have teeth carved by father and a peckish taste for flesh…

But I rather be strong and alone on this hellish mountain,
Than to be loved, weak, and hungry on a heavenly plateau.

[Lammy]

Often, I sit and wonder about the likes of humanity and it's condition,
How it settles with being happy in their weakness and sad in their time of strife,
How they find themselves falling into a deep depression with the loss of someone they hold dear,
Of the memories that they are left with and not the touch or the care of the person they enjoy the most of.

And I ask myself,
How would I handle myself if I was born in the city and how would I cope with loss?
Would I look into the arms of another and ask for them to hold me like a pup?
Would I ask for them to council me until I am back at full strength,
As if I asked the world to wait for me?
Or would I fall into the deepest roots of despair and wish for my life to end?

As the natural-born hunters of humanity come and take lives daily,
The time for tears and inner turmoil is second to what one should do.
You either become strong enough to deal with your predator and reclaim your throne,
Or you become their food supply and become devoured and second best.

Many would say that Love will guide them down the path that will have the sun beckoning them forward,
Some would say that friendship will be the answer,
But neither of these things are true.

You either become the strongest so that you can kill all the threats, or be killed.
You make every day that you are alive make an account for itself,
So that you can become stronger, wiser, more proficient in the killing.
And then you can cry for those that died.
The wife that was lost.
The friend that perished.
And the strangers that never saw today like you did.

[Lammy]

There isn't much that can describe the love of my life.
The fierce capacity for destruction,
The rapid evolution that they go through,
The physicality that you bring despite your size,
And the amount of effort that you push for me to change myself.

Others would want you dead,
Your body burned into a pyre,
Your legacy gone
And your name lost to the wind.

But I never knew your name, I just called you Badger,
But you're more like a badge of honor to me.
You push me to the very depths of my physical performance,
You make me reassess what I am able to do,
And you push me to strive so that I can never lose to you.

I believe that, that, is love;
The endless strive to overwhelm the other in combat.
To always be on top of the other or as close as one can be.
So that if you ever fall off, they can remind you so that you can kill you,
For it was clear that you were too weak to keep going.

And as long as you are alive, I shall adapt and overcome.
And much like you, I shall evolve as well;
It is only natural for predators to push themselves to the brink,
For without calamity and destruction, we would not be able to grow.
Without a predator, the clever and strongest of prey cannot adapt.

Though our destines are interlinked with fate,
And we have to face death one day together,
I will remember you for as long as I live-
So long as you remember the one who ate your chest,
For I will always hold on to those sentimental moments of combat.

Just as long as you can do the same.
And isn't it a shame that I still don't know your name?
Oh well.