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Literature Text
Fear is the drug inside us,
Which all our bodies crave
And just hate simultaneously,
For it sends us to our graves.
Fear is the beast in our hearts,
For when it’s woken up,
No thing controls its rampage,
And it charges over us.
Fear is the silken shadow
That lures us in with wit
Before it swallows us alive
With deadly skill and grit.
Fear is the rush of winter
Just underneath our skin;
It cools us off at first, but then
We’re frozen deep within.
Which all our bodies crave
And just hate simultaneously,
For it sends us to our graves.
Fear is the beast in our hearts,
For when it’s woken up,
No thing controls its rampage,
And it charges over us.
Fear is the silken shadow
That lures us in with wit
Before it swallows us alive
With deadly skill and grit.
Fear is the rush of winter
Just underneath our skin;
It cools us off at first, but then
We’re frozen deep within.
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So. I was looking at Nightmare Fuel yesterday because my curiosity wished to be slaked. In short, it was a bad idea. Afterwards, in an attempt to cope, I wrote this poem depicting the fear that I felt; I used "Hope Is The Thing With Feathers" by Emily Dickinson as a template. What overrides fear? Hope. And I needed some. Fortunately, my best friend online gave me exactly that. Seriously, Cursor, ILY~ <3
© 2013 - 2024 HorriblyAskew
Comments1
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Well now I'm curious what Nightmare fuel is, but your description keeps me from sating said curiosity.