I sit craddled in the arms of fear
From within my soul a song is sung
Of weeping and remorse.
The craddle rocks the baby born-still
No hiding place , no resort.
The moon is silent and no lovers kiss;
The leaves sway like my heart in fear.
There comes the storm, the mountain
Darkeness deep within; these arms
That hold me are sucking the life out
And the emptiness left to rot.
Fear speaks like the master
The slave submissive and in chains.
Fear has overcome as I run into a cave.
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