I am Fear

Fear, as if it appealed to the 5 senses.

 

I instill that of which I am.

If you could see me then you would see

A flawless black circle in which death lingers,

And an eye seeking a target through a serrated sight.

The eye would be full of anger, instilling my presence into the pit of your gut.

I would sound like the click as the hammer is pulled ajar

And the clank as the round enters the chamber.

You would also hear two bangs, the first as the bullet is propelled down the barrel,

And the other created as it breaks through the barrier of sound.

The pain would be unbearable,

 And the feeling of a liquid filling up your lungs

Would only make my presence stronger.

The smell of the burned powder would hang in the air,

Reminding you of what just happened.

This horrid stench would be caught in your mouth,

Forcing you to taste copper and gunpowder all at once;

The former coming from the dark, red liquid conjugating at the bottom of your throat.

And as darkness shrouds your vision

I will begin to fade.

But as soon as I am gone

Another will arrive, one I know very well.

But I ask do not fear him, please,

Don’t fear the Reaper.