Fear
My fear of death
is going to kill me.
My fear of the future.
is going to destroy it.
My children are the thread
I hang on by.
I don’t want to be here
but I keep struggling,
keep pushing
through the swamp murk,
the thick mud
streaked with blood.
There is no reason
but I keep going,
hoping that one day
there might be,
before the ever advancing
ghost of death,
my ghost,
my dark shadow,
finds me.
2
1
4