Fear

Skies so blue
Skin red-hot
Heart pulse
Wicked hate.
On a summers day,
In the weather so pleasant,
The corpse of my fear lingers dead in the soil,
It threatens to rise up again and consume me.
But cast down, exiled and forgotten it was,
Stripped of its indulgent power and dismantled,
All worry and fear terminated.
But the corpse twitches,
And I look away,
Because I know in my head,
I know that its heart is still beating, quickly, faintly,
And it's not beyond doubt that it will come back up,
Rise to swallow my bliss and take control again.
I know my attempt to cast fear aside and live like the wind has succeeded,
And I know that eternally, that it has failed.
Always and forever shall a black spark live on in my heart.
May God have mercy.