F E A R

A poem I wrote spontaneously for a contest; to write about something/someone you hate.

There’s a rage within for something depraved.

It taunts, it mocks, it teases and haunts;

and for some reason it’s rarely caught.

How do you scorn something surreal?

When it’s like smoke between your fingers,

 or the breath you can’t catch �"

how are you to conquer what rules you entirely?

There’s a hatred lurking in the mind,

in the heart and soul for falling behind.

Well this trickster’s told his tales and deluded me so.

Just when strength returns, it was all for show.

Fingers curl, nails nipping into flesh;

oh how it burns and scorns me so,

how this fear is worn like shackles to a hound.

Well he thinks his games are slick and fresh,

but if it’s one thing I’ve grown to know �"

is that it is merely another test.

Author's Note

The concept of this was a hatred of fear; not necessarily a person but a feeling and/or (very real) oppressor of a different kind.