There is fear in this world
There is a blackness
fastbreathing hesitation at the door
of discovery
There is a freezing
of intention
of life
There is no place to go
except where you've been
a well-worn path
the errant weeds trod down
by generations of travelers
who do not travel
There is a killing of spirit
The embrace of the known
and flight from the not known
a grinding-down of imagination
shrinking of vision
a death in life.
