Within the heart, a beast snarls, a beast growls. It hungers for more, in the lone hours it prowls the hidden corners of the mind seeking what it may devour. O, unclean spirit, that hungers and craves, you were lifted up from the dust by the Hand of God, yet still you hunt. You stalk the fields of the mind and the soul seeking moments of weakness so you can strike. What should we do with you? Some say shackle you with chains, but like Fenrir, you would just bide your time. It is hard to understand your cravings with its impatient pantience. Who bid your time, causing us to lower out guard, and then you strike! You forget, O Beast, o child of Adam's fall, you betray your nature when you choose to hunt at all. With our Lord Christ you were nailed to the tree. You dead o specter, and what rose was the real me. Free from bondage, no longer a slave to craving, aversion, or poisons of the soul. You live no longer, o beast, now is my time to grow. Why do I still fear you? Why to I still cower as if you still wander the wilds with me. I see your face clearly in the first two noble truths. My Lord and my Lady have planted a seed on the grounds you once stalked. Through last two truths I water this tree. I walk the eightfold path and practice the six perfections. Each brings water to the roots of my soul. I tend the garden in the heart you once roamed, the fruit of the Spirit will grow. Sometimes, in the long night, I hear thunder and remember your roar, but are are nailed to the tree. You have power no more. Free in the Spirit, and am a Friend with The Lord. Our Lady's my Mother, who you once abhorred. My sweet and precious Friend Christ, I walk with you on the Middle Way to Zion. Help my heart to awake to Glory of The Lord. Peace. Peace. Peace. Amen.