I Fear

I fear nothing more in this world than myself, I fear my urges, my yearning, my desire; my inability to put things away on the shelf, my natural rage at what raises my ire. The world can burden me, can put me down, the world can bet on a loss for me; it can make me flounder, make me drown, it can make me beg, make me plea. It can even make me give ground a mite, it can even make me want to quit; sometimes sway me to hold back my fight, sometimes sway me to momentarily submit. I fear what that can do to one, I fear two possible endings to that; the thought that someday they might have won, the thought that my acquiescence suffering begat. So too the idea many have had, and said, so too the idea I might in another way succumb; to the threats unsaid, the unspeakable in my head, to the drives I nigh daily overcome. The world can do much, and will one day have me, the world can't know, though, which me is in store; I don't want either fear, either future to come to be, I don't want to see that slave, to wage that war.