Fear Poem by Smrutiranjan Parida

It has been the way my sun sets, and a fresh morning blows the clarion of terror,
I, in spite of all my mustering courage,
In spite the deadly weapon in my hand,
I fear
I fear to wake up, and to run,
And again to sleep forever
To fight, to loot, and to cut his neck I fear
Don't come my near,
The fatal man inside is dead,
And my corpse creates disdain smell
And the ghost creates fear
The morning is not a morning,
While night morns forever,
Death, I want it now,
I want to kill the fear that comes near
Do my life; do it clear
The fear