Fear consumes as if life depends on it.
In darkness with baby teeth.
Reluctant and more fragile than you may think, it hovers.
First with blunt dagger to crunch ribs beneath.
Can you breathe?
Do you feel it,
The tightening in your chest?
Fear itself cannot know you,
Marked out, its wickedness too profound.
Wandering the earth friendless and wailing,
Knowing only its own fearful sound.
Do you hear it?
Do you shake?
The cold threatening feeling takes shape.
Fear drinks as if life depends on it,
It chokes.
Unwilling it consumes without belief.
Raw flesh hanging heavy in its guts already.
It heaves,
The final deed is done, consumed, fear has won
By
Stephen newell
