Fear

There’s a knock at the door.

Ear pressed against the pillow,

Your senses are stifled, and,

Comfortable as you are,

The sound you ignore.

There’s a cry from outside.

Tossing and turning

To block the noise,

You can’t escape it,

Hard as you try.

There’s a familiar sound.

The putrid smell

Of your heart once burned

Beats against the windowpane,

Barred by your lessons learned.

Scarred by the last eclipse,

You keep closed the blinds

And keep still the pain,

Holding to the Fear

In whom solace you found.