The Fearing

The great Fearing was upon them and it runs across the lands.

The Fearing had no substance like the drifting Sands.

When the Fearing is upon you, to Hades your Soul is bound;

when the Fearing is upon you your soul must hold its ground.

The Fearing feeds upon our Souls, they quaked beneath it’s gaze

and when they feet the Fearing they see their final days.

So many souls are taken into that fear-filled pit;

so many souls are fed into the fires Fear has lit.

Many knew this Fearing could overwhelm them all

but few could hear the beauty true wisdom’s silent call.

So the Fearing got it harvest from each and every land

and the Fearing thought that harvest made it bold and grand.

But those who were still standing at the end of that fateful day

knew somewhere deep within their hearts there was a better way.

They knew that Fear could never win against people strong

who stood against the Fearing to the tune of their own Song.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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