Sane-Me-Not
Sep 03 2011
Fears
Are works of playful imaginings
Crafted by thoughts of those who’s daunted
Housed in the mirrors of broken hopes
Of soundless voice, of lifeless shadows
They haunt every spirit dreaded and down
Halt every heart, though beating aloud
They dwell in darkness
They work there well
An enemy impalpable, a coward’s hell
Tears
Are nothing but pity of selves
Beckoned on cries as helpless as slaves
They kill all piece of the breathing faith
They feebled the knees of those who wait
Fears and Tears
Cruel and frail
Weaved between sheaths of the craven’s bed
They dwell in darkness
They wait there still
They blind all eyes
And consume all dreams
Fear is faith that it won’t work out. ~Sister Mary Tricky
