The moon shines, steady and bright,
Setting the stage for a fight.
A certain charm that evades daylight,
Lures Fear out into the night.
"Your time has come", I tell my might,
"Do it now. And do it right."

Fears make part of a man too,
As likes, dislikes, and strengths do,
But I shall kill this part of me today,
Remorse I have well warned, to stay away.

Consider a plot in holy free space,
Of your life's aims against your life's states.
Hovering low, quite in your face,
Is an apparent ceiling - Fear's surface,
Cheating your ambition into seeing bounds,
Lowering its sights, losing its grace.

Knowing this has hardened my soul,
Previous abuse has made it immune.
Fear's past deeds shall take their toll,
Against the treacherous charm of the moon.

And finally I step out into the black,
Wander randomly, not watching my back,
Because there's truth in what is said,
About Fear striking the unprepared.

Then a shot sounds, I feel a pinch,
Turn around, see Fear dead.
"I didn't kill him", I hear in my head,
"He killed himself when his bullet ricocheted,
Off the seeming armour of lead,
That my soul has come to be."
Rains celebrate the unusual victory,
But strangely, no clouds do I any longer see.