At Your Last Breath
If I had to explain to a child
What is fear?
I could not
I would not
But for the adult
Fear is all too familiar
Yet so unknown
Transcendence is skewed
Fear is natural
Yet it is corrupt
It is in the mind alone
But also physically numbs
A lingering silence
Devoid of thoughts
Or a chaotic noise
Without a gap between screams
Blooming from confusion
Unfamiliarity, wrath and kindness
The reason for being afraid
Was not the same
For Jack or Jill
Dorothy or the Tinman
Stepmother or Stepsisters
Bonnie or Clyde
Are you still afraid?
One asked a dying man
‘No’, he replied
If not before, then at your last breath
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