The Chill

As the wolfs howl and the moon shines down,
My lungs act like I'm about to drown.
The fear creeps up and lays it cold hands,
On my heart to show what it demands.
It wants all the sorrow and all the joy,
All so these fellings can end up as a toy.
Suddenly, fear is rivaled by its brother rage,
And both are the scribes for histories next page.
Fear and Rage cause me to attack,
And show me no one has my back.
They show me my faults so I feel insecure
And feel as if my life is impure.
So with a bang, a sigh, and a tear I die,
And know that at the least I did try
To fight my fear and calm my rage
Even if my heart was locked in a cage.