Selected Works Of Adam Smith

Fear
By Adam Smith

i) The State of Fear

The climate is so cold,
As we wait in his domain,
The air is dark and old,
Where all one feels is pain.
Here where noone ever dares,
To move or speak or breathe.
Here where noone ever cares,
If one stays or leaves.
Always around the corner,
Hides the evil Beast.
But noone dares to warn or,
Tell us it’s released.
We merely wait in fear,
Until we can take no more,
Of living this State of Fear,
Thousands lived before.
Don’t look at the sky,
Of this accursed land.
It seems so far...A lie!
It waits beside your hand.
You think you hear a sound,
And a ripple flows throughout,
Your body down into the ground,
And takes another route.
Transported to your heart,
It leaves a scarring mark,
And then at once you start,
To worry in the dark.
“What is it,” you wonder
“That follows after me?”
Scared to hear the thunder,
Which blinds you all to see.
Along the road you stop,
And realise that you’re lost,
And as you reach the top,
You see the paths you’ve crossed.
They’re full of holes and dangers,
To body and to mind,
But you unlikely strangers,
Did keep what you did find.
We learn about the Fear,
From those who came before,
But until ourselves do hear,
We know it all the more.

ii) Release from Fear

The path ahead now open wide,
We step inside the door,
And take a look all around,
At what we’d struggled for.

A land of Eden, Paradise,
For those who passed the test.
Come inside and realise,
The glory of the quest.

And in this land we fear no longer,
The Beast or those who harm,
And as we eat, we get stronger,
And feel safe and warm.

You see this place and thank the Gods,
For they have giv’d you here,
A wonder land without the odd,
And evil State of Fear.

A day, a year, a whole decade,
Is spent within this land.
But then is seen this new facade,
Picked apart by our own hand.

A dark sense creeps o’er th mind,
And deadens at the touch.
Of the peace which we did find,
We have kept too much.

iii) The Return of Fear

Shivering, whispering, lower than ever,
The wind beating down forever,
On your face and in your eyes,
Peeling back your disguise.
You wish a wish that’s never heard,
Noone hears a single word,
Never to escape again,
You wish for what you once had then,
Before the false land of hope,
Nothing but the gallow rope,
Swinging lightly in the breeze,
Now the wind carries disease.
The Beast which haunted minds before,
Now often frequents your door.
Scratching, Clawing – “Come to me..”
You wish to hell that you could see.
And now sitting, waiting in the dark,
Hoping for some force to work,
You cry your last tears away,
To the killer of the day.

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