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The Root of All Fears

The Root of All Fears

The Root of All Fears

by Miro


The Root of All Fears There was a man 'was 'fraid of deathIt spread to all this thoughtsThe fear of breathing his last breathLeft his thin will in knots The fear of that dark, patient reaperWas root of all dreadEvery scare, funk, fright and doubtWas thanks to Mr. Dead He lived out his entire lifeIn fear of his demiseAnd when it came, with his last breathAnd closing of his eyes Still he clung by fingernailsAnd wheezed for leniencyBut Death is absolutely fairAnd never shows mercy There was a gal 'was 'fraid of deathIt coloured every dayDespite a stunning canvasDeath would taint life with dismay Every single moment hadA mark of coming doomA marriage, child's birth, evenA flower in full bloom Every wondrous moment rottedWith the thought of lossNothing took away the fearNo bible, no gold cross No quotes, no books, no meditationEased her of her fearOne day her heart exploded whenThe Reaper did appear There was a child 'was 'fraid of deathThat fear was planted earlyHer mommy and her daddy saidThat death turned straight hair curly They taught her death was to be fearedBecause loss causes painAnd also taught that happinessIs only when you gain And so she grew and gained and wasQuite happy 'till she lostBut then she gained again which causedA thawing of the frost Until the day that Mr. DeadArrived on her front doorShe dropped and sobbed in terror forHer coda on the floor There was a Warrior 'was notAfraid of death and soSince death is the root of all fearsHis life did not have woe He made his peace with Mr. DeadAnd said "When you are ready"And lived each day as though his lastWith power, poise, steady The ones who lived in fearThe ones who were afraid to dieCalled him crazy as they taintedFlowers and the sky But Warrior, his deal made firmSaw colours bright and vividNo tainting, simply pure and trueWhich made the normals livid Each moment, no matter how smallWas special and sereneImpending doom did not besmirchThe red and blue and green When Mr. Dead chose to collectThe price we all must payThe Warrior settled the feePromptly as he did say "As it so happens I woke upThis morning and did ponderThis may be my final dayAnd so I should not squander I lived it as each other dayAs if were my lastI pay the toll with no regretsMy life has been quite vast" Mr. Dead collected andThe Warrior did dieJust like all the others butThe Reaper gave a sigh "If only all would live while theyStill breathe instead of fearSuch a waste, to let my tollRob them of all their cheer" ~Miro


Miro | August 11, 2017 at 3:38 pm | Tags: bushido, courage, death, ego, fear, fears, inspiration, iron will, knight, poem, poet, reaper, resolve, root of all fear, samurai, soul, spirituality, warrior, warrior poet wisdom, warriors, wisdom | Categories: Uncategorized | URL: http://wp.me/p1Ac3o-17I

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