Fear

If hope is a thing with feathers

Then oh dear what is fear

Perhaps a werewolf on the run

Hoping a full moon will never come

Ravaging town after town

Unable to satisfy its hunger

Fear, that pit inside us now

Hungry for your screams

No escape, dark and damp

A hole easy for us to hid in

Letting it consume

Fear is a thing of hunger

Elizabeth Almeida ©2022