Fear Itself

The shadows pass over just before you wake.
They slide over your skin like a slithering, scaly
snake.
You can’t see the darkness, but you know its there.
So at the ceiling you begin to stare.
Reaching for the card on the very bottom shelf,
“There is nothing to fear except fear itself.”

You don’t know what it is about the absence of light,
but it seems to get at you every night.
Though you close your eyes and count sheep,
you still don’t catch a single blink of sleep.
Back to the ceiling your eyes gaze,
leaving your memory in a distorted haze.
All you now know is solitude and fear,
so you reach down to the card that can lead you away from here.
You force your fingers down to that familiar shelf,
“There is nothing to fear except fear itself.”

Night after night. Week after week.
Things beginning to look a little less bleak.
You have built up your courage every day and night,
so now their up to an outstanding height.
All memorized now is that little card
that led you from the nights that made your life hard.
Your memory calls back to that very bottom shelf,
and that “There is nothing to fear except fear itself.”