Fear

I rarely see you enter in
But I can feel when you begin
To squeeze my heart, my lungs, my breath
To make me feel a certain death

Oh, Fear, you are a serpent vile
You wrap my innards python-style
The contents of my stomach curdle
As you crush my guts, my girdle

My vision narrows, blackens, shrinks
You laugh, for you this is high jinks
You enjoy this deadly strangle
I fight. Must. See…From…Diff’rent…. Angle

I break your grip and gasp for air
Fear, you’re a liar sent to scare
You’re gone now but you’ll be back
And I’ll prepare for next attack

This is my response to this week’s W³ prompt “to choose an abstract noun and make the abstract concrete by describing what your abstract noun feels, sounds, looks, smells, or tastes like. How does your abstract noun move? Where does it move? What kind of animal is it? What kind of landscape? Go where the prompt leads—write a poem in any format, as long as it does not exceed 24 lines.”