Fear rattles my bones,
Turns them cold.
I fear I may harvest this beast until I
grow old.
And if it dies with me,
Then whatever shall I be?
When my skin seeps through the coffin,
Will it find another soul to feast?
My emotions are constantly in a race.
Happiness can never keep the pace.
Anger pushes through 'sad' or 'glad'
And ecstasy is afraid of my veins.
Fear, unfortunately, is always in first
place.
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