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To Fear the Fear of Death

O troubled maid whom peace eludes, whence comes your fear of lurid nights; of nights that rouse your fretful moods and faint heart when out are the lights!? At the midnight hour you're oppressed by your o'erwhelming, rabid fears of death and gore and you're depressed by your distress and flow of tears. The fear of death thus spoils your sleep and robs you of your required rest; you wilt and flag like fearful sheep that’s deaf to their shepherd’s behest. Fear not, O maid! You'll not see Death, for these lines give eternal life so you will live with every breath of these words free of painful strife.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Book: Shattered Sighs