The Faces

The faces of fear are frigid and bitter.
Escalating the heartbeats past the point of phobic,
ravaging our isolated intellectual worlds.
Collapsing our infrastructure of control.
Irresolution permeates every analysis, consideration, and decision.
Paralyzed under the parasitic clutch of condemnation

a deep breath escapes as the sweat beads.
The moment we break,
giving into that split second of time
the pendulum swings and life continues.
Taking that first excruciating step back towards control,
staring into the eyes of those frigid and bitter faces.

Gaining Karma with each step.
Back towards cowardice, the dark depths of humility.
Or forward past the frigid and bitter
towards the serenity of eluding
once again the faces of fear.