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fear has its grip on me

I feel it physically

she can see it plainly

it's not hard to tell

blind men, they could suffice it from

the silence in the air

tap into a part of myself

that part is not alive here

lost resolve can find its way home

fairy tales you tell yourself

I have viewed such goods in cohorts

they are lying you will see

what will become of myself

reach for me and I will guide

mind is made up

psyche controls the body

give into your anxiousness

give into the discomfort

hope does not exist here

hope is just a figment

hope becomes my nightmare