It looms over my days, <br />It haunts my nights, <br />The further I try to go, <br />It is again before my eyes. <br /> <br />The sweat trickling down, <br />My heart beating fast, <br />It always makes me feel, <br />This breath is my last. <br /> <br />Like an eight-legged octopus, <br />It entraps and engulfs me, <br />The more I shrink back, <br />Clearly the shadow I see. <br /> <br />My senses seem to give away, <br />When it comes very near, <br />And then I realize that <br />The ghostly figure is fear.<br /><br />Aneesha Myles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fear-157/
