This defile, sharply axed but
roughly matted, unlike a valley
Hit my toenail with stone blisters, often
...
The Oblivion Of Fear
This defile, sharply axed but
roughly matted, unlike a valley
Hit my toenail with stone blisters, often
When my satchel bruised my shoulder
And I hated drudging like a slave,
a slave battered with fear
This defile, where I scrambled
through, clasped two territories,
although rough and rumple,
territories where I just saw
two mountains, glaring each other
both lofty, steepish,
splashily painted with ice
fighting for height
and roaring with wind,
that defeated my woolens
and frightened my soul
This defile, as crescent as the moon,
but unbranched,
puffs anguish at the yard,
as carcinogenic as smoking,
Of my wooden house
where I, the only member
Of my family...but fear,
residing, the recesses of my belly
This defile, has brought me no guests
since time became pregnant
And dusts: dry and dilapidated
with the monotony of traveler,
scattered nowhere, also
stamped to death
lie still, waiting...
for a new footprint to re-stamp, to life
And I keep my windows open,
the hinges turned backward
mattress fluffed and cups coupled,
contained with coffee
ready for warm conversations
with my fear
But then, my limitations clashes fear
this defile, where from it inherited,
And there is a limiting victory
This way so,
I conquer my fear daily
and daily I let it go,
someday most certainly
Fearlessness would be my choice
This defile, concave at conclusions,
venues a virtuous end:
the oblivion of fear!