Fear Evermore.

What are we, if not for our fear.

Our ideas, our successes, and our failures, all because why?

Fear?

Certainly my friend.

For each action taken is not for love or greed.

For covetousness, or euphoria.

No, my friend. It is all out of fear.

You never find a soulmate for the love,

for the feeling of a warm embrace.

You do it for the fear of being alone.

That deep-seated, fear of Vulnerability.

My friend.

Fear is dyed-in-the-wool of humanity,

so to speak,

friend.

It’s at the root of all actions.

All actions.

What about greed you ask?

Ah, this gets most.

See... friend.

For it not being the fear of having naught,

or for having less than they-who-are next to you,

you would ne’re lie, cheat, steal... execute your brethren.

If it were not for the fear that you will be left behind,

as the carriage of opportunity to merely waltz on past.

That fear.

’Tis at the root of all.

...

Friend,

Are you convinced?

Or still, you believe these pathetic fallacies of emotion?

Still, shall you believe that what it is you do is done for what you want?

Or to avoid that you fear.

You collect meaningless pieces of paper and alloy,

pah.

Why?

Are you scared to go without food?

Without shelter?

Without love?

All violence

You think the soldier lays down their life for love?

For what.

For large tracts of dirt and vegetation?

What is there to love?

When thou hast drenched the soil in the blood of your species?

You think the soldier dispatches of innocents for love?

For greed?

For sadistic satisfaction?

No my...

Acquaintance.

He does it for the fear of what you will do he fails to.

He does it for the fear of your reprisal.

When you survive and return the oh so bloody favor.

Out of the simple,

primitive,

primeval...

fear.

That autochthonous driving factor of all that we are.

Not convinced...

‘mate’.

Why is it that every day untold millions of people pray?

Why do they want to go to a better place?

When your mortal coil is inevitably snuffed?

Why is it that we seem to clamor like lemmings

all for the possible...

possible

warranty of a heaven?

Because we are in fear,

all-encompassing,

ever gripping,

ne’re ceasing,

primordial piece of us,

that dictates the very course of our lives,

our futures,

and our history.

Yes, that is our history.

The story of us.

Fear Evermore.

Fear Evermore.

Genre: I don’t know. That’s for the audience (and you) to decide.

Age range: 16+ would be the best to read and think about the poem in an intellectual fashion.

Word Count: Approx 415 words.

Author Name: Ooooh, this appears to be a mystery.

Why is this project a good fit? I don’t know what it’s meant to fit into. So if I’ve answered a question that’s meant to be a story to sell, then this probably isn’t it.

The Hook: If I’ve done this right, then the first line should make for at least a decent hook, basically by calling out the reader and making them think about the driving factors their own emotions.

Synopsis: The Poem is the monologue of an unknown person. Giving insight and debate into the role that fear has played in humanity. However, as a silent audience disagrees their tone becomes less friendly, and they begin to use increasingly violent examples. Possibly out of the fear that their audience will not understand.

Target Audience: People who like poetry, philosophy, and intellectual discussion... I think.

Bio: OooOOooOoh... another mystery.

Education: Ditto

Hobbies: Well, apart from this another mystery.

Writing Style: I don't know. Another thing for the audience and our all-powerful overlords of "the judges" to determine.

Hometown: Surprise! It's Albania. (It's not. It's another mystery. )