Fear
In the dark she composes,
Bleek from the mind's whispers.
An image in comprehension
Cohabiting with the soul's rhythm
masking a vocal,
So oddly high in pitch, yet a whisper
When voiced.
Yet at that the cranium watches
As enquiries linger at the tip
Of her cebrum, for thee
Who's not ready for quest shall swim
In a cage of self doubt.
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