Near Fear

The sky slowly grows dark Like a seeking, creeping, shark. Moving shadows disappear, but something ominous and wicked is near. It holds promises of fear my dear. Leaves commit to a dance as if well organized and not by chance. Will circumstance meet your demise or will it be a complete and unexpected surprise? From the ground comes a moaning, groaning sound. drumming, pounding, on your head. Like the heartbeat of the long ago dead. A wise individual once said, it is the curtain of our mind that reflects our dread making it real and not pretend. The next time your fears begin to rise Look within the window of your head And shove them out until they are dead.