FEAR

There's no such thing as instincts flaring.

No such thing as real hope.

There's just the cry of something cornered,

Something captured, blaring.

In fact it's safe to say the opposite.

The gleam of falling sand foreseen,

With a glaze where there should be that searing blaze.

Partner of a well-known hypocrite.

Here, there, everywhere,

There's something that snickers 'Beware'.

With shadows morphing and common ignorance insuring,

Salvation lost, naked in a single tear.

Dream brittle birdie,

With those bared eyes so wide, so still.

Scream little birdie,

With that wing snapped around your throat.

Fate dares you birdie.

Will you play?