May 2, 2010
It creeps up on me slowly
Tiptoeing unnoticed at first
Encompassing my psyche wholly

For a cure my body thirsts
For a day when I will be free
From this phobia curse

All of the physiologists agree
I must be the one to find a cure
Yes, this they agree wholeheartedly

They say that the darkness is an irrational fear
But they must not have my imagination
To take the simple and make it obscure

I await an instant salvation
But it only circles around teasing
Much to my frustration

When I see it I will be sure to seize
What will hopefully be my everlasting protection
Then I will be pleased

But until then I await perfection
This fear has made my dead inside, but
Maybe tomorrow will be my resurrection

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