I lay alone with fear,

On this bed of thorns that bear,

A striking resemblance to the past,

Now lying there in the dust.

A wise man strokes his thick beard,

A doctor swaying his rigid lips,

Fear thy body, fear thy dark,

For not even the greatest of lights

Find it possible to penetrate this bark.

Feel it from a mile,

This ancient chill,

Fear has no beginning nor end,

Coiling and twisting twigs like snakes,

Gulping its own tail end.