It’s lurking. 

I can feel it everywhere I go. 

Sitting.  Watching.  Waiting. 

Waiting for me to give in to its prescence.  It’s getting so anxious I can feel it right behind me,

breathing its ice cold breath down my neck; it chills me to the bone.  I’m frozen. 

With fear. 

With panic. 

With doubt. 

It’s getting a hold of me.  Slowly but surely I’m giving up, giving in to what it wants.

I’ve stopped fighting it, there’s no use now.  All of the warmth from my body

ceases to exist now.  My sun that emanates heat and love seems to have gotten lost behind a cloud. 

Or maybe I am the one who has lost my way, now stumbling through a

deep, cold, darkness.  Stumbling towards it. 

Giving in to its


Guide that inspired this poem: 




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