As if a fear butterflies,
Orbiting the nectar filled heart

As if a fear after burning the midnight oil
Curls on the bed, like a foetus
Stretching out the mattress

As if a fear, a pruned up dementor
Sucking the blood and soul of the heart

As if a fear, swings on the heart seat
Stretching the harness, weighing down the brain

As if a fear, is a termite,
eating away at the wing-thin pages of the brain
Till no library remains

But it is nothing, I am told
For fear faints with a snuff; a whiff
With a moving air, a breath
That only life can give.

.    .    .