What is this feeling?
That hangs on

Is it the fear of Battle?

Trapped in the maelstrom of dread and passion
Catching the heat

Nay . . . ‘tis not

Is it the fear of Cowardliness?

That foulness of all panic
Stealing ones very ego
Leaving a barren shell

Nay . . . ‘tis not

Is it the fear of Death?

Singling not
Creed nor calling
Distributing Godhead’s aftermath

Nay . . . ‘tis not

Was it the fear of Guilt?

Madness that eats at you
Fouling the years furthermore

Damn right!
'tis fear

Of surviving