Know-Nothing

 
Terror forms an opinion,
       makes hostile urges a martyr.
One does not survive without tranquil
       adherence to a subtle light:
The sanctity of each moment,
       its own death assured,
Our escape, a chance or loomed in fate
       as all horizons burn dusky,
And we hold onto one another to remain
       moored to sanity,
Time’s anti-thesis, healing rather than
       breaking.

Fear is self-hatred,
       a barking delusion
Quieted in a breath, away
       but not
Alone.
 
 

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