Fear Poem by alexander opicho

The problem of fear is not fear itself
As once sang the English bard,
Its adversity unto humanity
Is good news in a full dress,
Grip of fear is a tarzanic state of man
Blurring boundary between humanity and animality,
Makes often false facts to appear real unto one
In its obvious turf of folly nourishing domain,
Fear kills a man umpteen before final death
Conjuring its state of victim to impaired mind,
Pushing one effortlessly towards erred choices
Sucking intelligence totally out of the body,
Leaving the man a pitiable cognitive imposto