A twisting presence that rises like flames, burning all that is without resistance. Bringing no hope to those who run and those who run, will only strain a longer sentence. Fear, is the demon that finds prey in what one finds difficult and those who cower from the difficult, lead with blame and speak of insult. And from the mists of the stars comes its lingering stench. Stinging the canals of the nose like sour fruits. Leaving actions like mutes. Its bitter flavor melts the taste of faith, it burns the homes of dreams and devours the rhythm of life, all this, it constitutes with vicious grace. It boils ambition with a smile of bliss. Licking its lips of any hope and like the busy you will dismiss. It follows with no need to run, no need to try, to pray, to hope, or leap. It only needs to wait and its darkness is filled with patience. Patience that has no discern of time, laughter, dreams, or life, and its hunger is infinite and its heart is black and ripened in violence .
Fear walks among the living in the shadows as its mind draws of murderous sketches. Filling its mouth with deceitful rhyme and its eyes spill of roaches. Jubilant, as bodies of dreams, wishes, faith, and hope, lay murdered, sprawled like victims of war ruptured from their hearts. And fear expands its its grim crusade as it feasts upon the bodies like foul vultures in darkness, panting with the blood of life as it finds this to be the true way of onse arts.
It leaves no ounce of flesh to be left, leaving no ability to recognize. Its speaks as of it is right, as if it to tell no lie, but its lips weave of dishonest cries. And like Hermes, its a trickster of all kinds. Many will follow, many will believe, but in the end, all will grieve. And like the girl in red, singing between the falling leafs of the woods, they will no longer breathe, for the false words of fear have punctured like a blade upon rotted flesh. Drawing love, faith, and dreams, like blood drooling from severed veins. But there is no room for fear, yet many open their doors and permit it to shelter.
Only to find themselves wide eyed to its murderous tricks, leaving faith to the spoils of liquor. Displacing ones once hopeful life into a spinning tragedy of insanity, of oblivion. As fear gnaws at the reminiscence of what one used to be, leaving the soul stricken. But do not speak as if all are weak to its presence, for fear gives no judgments. Blinding those already filled with dissolution and distress, fear is an actor, knowing how to impress. Fear preys upon all, but wins only those who do not prepare their walls. It will breach the smallest cracks, the smallest stitch, it will haunt the minds narrow halls. And like insects to closed doors, it will find its path, whether it be a pipe or split in the shingles of the roof. Fear slithers like a worm inside the mud or our minds, its victims falsely led by its meager stature. Recycling emptiness and sorrow is its nutrients, its needs and sadly, the mind is not soundproof.
Thoughts that bring it value are that which give it breath, give it life. Give it the fortitude to conquer the beauty of faith, hopes, and dreams. Cutting the youngest, letting them bleed, displaying them for all to see. Creating tears where strength once led. Where a leader stood with feet pressed against the floors of faith as it holds them up. As they hold shut the hordes of shadows that vigorously pound at their door with mouths greedy of molded bread with all hell wishing them dead. But, like the needs of a virus, fear will spread with no guilt, no penance, or shame. It will merely feast upon corpses and bleed the living of hopes and dreams till it host surrenders with a belly erupting of fear. A constant tending of the soul is required to keep it at bay and one must learn to take fear and demand it tame. But few wish to lead a battle against a beast that craves the very essence of ones soul, a beast that lusts for the very vision of life and a beast that salivates with a crude appetite to claim. Fear has no place to be, but so many fall for its tempting plea.
Popular posts from this blog
I have been writting poetry on medium, does anyone still wish me to write short stories on here?
A Summer Bird's Winter Perch I watch this lonely bird chirp upon a slopping branch. Its feet wrapped firmly around the thin finger of bark. As I watch, I commiserate its position. Sitting there, alone, singing with no others to listen. Speaking I assume, to itself. Maybe contemplating its unfortunate circumstance. For the rest had already left for the winter. If I am not mistaken it was only a few days ago that I watched a flurry of birds dart by. Their wings flapping against the brisk wind collectively. Not a single one appeared worried of their journey. Their shadows crawled quickly across the empty streets during a fall evening. I watched them pass by like a feather floating down stream. I couldn't help but wonder, how long must they fly? What winds must they fight, what elements must they battle against? All must be against them as is every moment in time is against us all? Yet they fly forth to the heat of earth. Dependent upon their survival but, what
The Taste of Love, Will It Ever Be Mine? When will I find my lips upon the sweet taste of love? Lost to its scent like the aromal smell of roses upon skin. Will there be an end, beneath an apple tree buried next to my other half? Or will I drown in the soiled pity of my heart as whiskey stains my veins? For I find the misery of myself to be a dull company, but yet its tingles with addiction. And I draw my eyes close to the empty halls of the damned. Screaming for peace but always find myself chocking on pride. Lost in a dense fog I created in the heat of breath upon my frozen heart. Distant am I, in the reaches of tears. For they have no existence in the forefront of my mind, nor heart. Some may call me hollow, lackluster in the dreams of my own thoughts. What is one without the acceptance of tears, without the bravery to step into the engagement of vows? How does one truly go beyond his own vicious habits if there lies no other to call them out? I hear my soul whispe