The Fear

Whether it's the unknown or just the obvious.

Whether it is written or only our conscience.

It is very similar to us and full of prejudices.

It's mostly the fear of having to face it.

You can't know what the consequences are.

Without having to struggle with the truth.

That one thinks of a book or that it is of a thought.

That one accepts without any appearance.

Whatever path we take.

It determines with or without passion.

The possible choice of a destination.

Forgetting the road, but not the reason.

You have to feel like it without any interest.

Wanting to be afraid, it seems insane.

It depends on the path you want to take.

Books we read and prejudices.

It is a very effective means of defense.

It is logical when it doesn't make sense.

It has no less a place.

In all our existence.

There is no reason to think, whether it is logical or not.

To have to be wary of it even with the illusion.

That a beautiful rose can hurt, of an honest stranger.

But what a chance there is, before it disappears.

Fear and time are inseparable. One must have the sincere desire to give them.

It is instantly more than indispensable, but over time may change.

Whatever our decisions, we must accept the truth.

Even without any intention, of our acts born our thought.

With or without hypocrisy, whether you like it or not.

Everything, but not indifference, because it is the fear of oneself.

It all makes no sense, fear guides my words.

I would not, under any circumstances, want her to turn her back on me.