ValkyrieRaven88
New Member
This is a poem dealing with fear in general. It's my favorite of all my poems because it's the one everyone seems to understand the most. It was published in my high school's literary magazine.
The all-consuming fear,
That’s tearing me apart.
It eats me from the inside,
And it’s starting with my heart.
The truth’s locked up inside me,
And that’s where it will stay hid.
Fear of its discovery,
Keeps me sitting on the lid.
I feel part of it leaking out,
Like I can’t hold it all in.
I struggle, put more pressure on,
But outward leaks my sin.
Pandora’s box of horrors,
With one tiny ray of hope,
That someday I can let it go,
And thus release my rope.
I’m already at the end of it.
Why bother holding on?
I might as well enjoy the fall;
The landing may be soft.
I search the story of my life,
For the source of this dismay.
I’m persecuted, hunted down,
Killed and left to decay.
Why so much persecution,
When I’ve committed no crime?
I’ve never harmed a living soul,
Yet I’m back-stabbed all the time.
“Just let it go, just let it out.”
“Breathe deeply; you’ll live on.”
These voices rotate in my head.
They mean well, but they’re wrong.
I die a little more each day,
From cancer of my mind.
This leech inside drains all my strength,
Until none’s left to find.
I feel the smiles around me,
And I pray that they don’t know.
I try to keep it hidden,
But somehow it still shows.
Pandora’s box is opening,
And the demons in me swarm.
The hope inside me fills me up.
It’s that which keeps me warm.
The all-consuming fear,
That’s tearing me apart.
It eats me from the inside,
And it’s starting with my heart.
The truth’s locked up inside me,
And that’s where it will stay hid.
Fear of its discovery,
Keeps me sitting on the lid.
I feel part of it leaking out,
Like I can’t hold it all in.
I struggle, put more pressure on,
But outward leaks my sin.
Pandora’s box of horrors,
With one tiny ray of hope,
That someday I can let it go,
And thus release my rope.
I’m already at the end of it.
Why bother holding on?
I might as well enjoy the fall;
The landing may be soft.
I search the story of my life,
For the source of this dismay.
I’m persecuted, hunted down,
Killed and left to decay.
Why so much persecution,
When I’ve committed no crime?
I’ve never harmed a living soul,
Yet I’m back-stabbed all the time.
“Just let it go, just let it out.”
“Breathe deeply; you’ll live on.”
These voices rotate in my head.
They mean well, but they’re wrong.
I die a little more each day,
From cancer of my mind.
This leech inside drains all my strength,
Until none’s left to find.
I feel the smiles around me,
And I pray that they don’t know.
I try to keep it hidden,
But somehow it still shows.
Pandora’s box is opening,
And the demons in me swarm.
The hope inside me fills me up.
It’s that which keeps me warm.