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