Everything disappears before fear. The fear, Cesonia;
this beautiful feeling, without alloy, pure and uninterested;
one of the few that takes its nobility from the guts.
Albert Camus
Look at me: fear inhabits me.
Behind these serene eyes, in this body that loves: fear.
Fear at dawn for inevitably the sun will rise and I'll have to see it,
when the sun sets because it might not come out tomorrow.
I watch the mysterious noises of this house that crumbles,
the ghosts, the shadows surround me and I'm afraid.
I make sure to sleep with the light on
and I get my hands on spears, shields, illusions.
But then perhaps it takes only a stain on the tablecloth
and again terror overcomes me.
Nothing calms me, nothing soothes me:
neither this useless word, nor the passion of love,
not even the mirror where I can already see my dead face.
Listen carefully, I shout it: I'm afraid.