this fear that haunts me,
it magnifies itself each day,
sends me a mockery each time i try,
i feel threatened by it,
as it has no essence of courtesy,
it comes when it likes,
as if it owns my soul,
but i readily allow it with no refrain,
because i am weak and with a fragile heart,
with a broken spirit it feeds on me,
sucking my will out of my veins of vision,
i am no more but a pale body of cowardice,
my retreat is to submit to it,
no courage equals to no strenght,
fear knows best and it uses it to full capacity,
my own fear is the wall i cant break,
the wall i cant climb up
the wall i cant get through,
my own fear is an illusion.
an illusion of failure and rejection,
my own fear is my downfall.
The Woman Who
This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.
Dreams, desires, id and ego.