What I fear the most
The dying echoes of a day unwished
Smothered embers near the tips of our eyes
That few have caressed
Only you have adressed
My visceral lies
A shell uncracked, a gun out back
A pending penalty of guilt
A sharp-edged letter
Makes none the better
A needless restoration, after an undeserved tilt
Not the offer but the refusal is at fault
A heart, mine only, grinding to a halt
A sudden change, a bereavement of hate
Threw us back into the hands of fate
I will work to make it right
Of others' confusion no longer the host
In fear of everlasting Plutonian night
In fear of what is feared the most
The dying embers of a day unwished
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