Fear is not a friend,
It is not worthy.
It's a tale with no end,
It haunts the Birdie.
It's the spiders that crawl,
It's the guns that shoot.
It's the planes that fall,
It's the unjust lawsuit.
It's the colour of mud,
It's the taste of grit.
It's the smell of blood,
It's the tears she won't admit.
It doesn't protect,
It only attacks.
Feeds off ones neglect,
Crawling deep within the cracks.
It's not immortal,
For it has its own flaws.
For if you find the right portal,
You will escape its claws.
Fly little Birdie fly,
For there's nothing else you can do.
The fear cannot chase you up high.
For then it can do nothing but bid you adieu.