Freight Poem by Justin Reamer

Fear, a wanton emotion,
Which makes me miserable every time
I come across it,
Yet, what I fear is ambiguous,
But yet it comes and snatches me
Stalking me in the night
Making me afraid
Of the thing that comes after me.
This thing that comes after me
Is the silhouette of a man,
But it has blood-shot eyes,
Leering into me with their laserlike abilities,
Fangs coming out of its mouth,
Dripping with saliva,
And claws that extend ten inches from its fingers,
Ready to tear my own flesh.
Yet, it stands there in the darkness,
Like a panther ready to prowl,
Watching me,
Deftly waiting my arrival.
Yet, I don’t know what it is,
For it takes on many forms,
‘Tis the night that encompasses the Earth,
‘Tis the noises one hears in the brisk darkness,
‘Tis the caves gone in splendour,
‘Tis everything I do not understand,
Yet it comes after me,
It knows my name,
For it is everywhere,
And it is daemonlike and horrid,
Nothing like it.
Yet, I succumb to the freight,
For there is no delight
In the terror which consumes me,
So I must let it be.