Warfare
is living shelled in fears where impulses are smothered
to
the detriment of a longing soul. I disparage one to lighten a
load
buried in a want for said person’s freedoms. Instead, I
ought
to nurture for discipline said indelicacy for hope to escape
maya; else I perish to particles of
false pleasures eating at the
lining
of my stomach. What of fear an intricate manifestation
born
of woes, wants and warfare? Fear suffers the angst of
trepidation
grounded in false perceptions where one is found in
sorrows.
I want in earnest to seek for friendship where sexual
tensions
are harnessed for rechanneling; but I fear such intimacy
where
sex is often given prior to an introduction of hearts. This
for
want of love a vehicle suspended by something akin to lust
where
we failed to consult a starving conscience. Such an
impulse
is grounded in abandonment where a young man yearns
for
his mother and ever flung through affairs. It’s not uncommon
to
mate before engaging in an intimate conversation. This is for
want
of a feeling which appeases an intense fear of unworthiness.
Fear
is a machine built for warfare to alter one’s internal calling
towards
peace and harmony where said elements are often
frustrated
by intimate realities. Thus, I may want for peace where
one
wants for friction in order to overcome an abnormality. In
another
instance, I may grieve for tranquility where embarrassment
prevents
for serenity. In both cases we are with want to rid
ourselves
of the situation, where it may be in our interest to face
those
illusions surfing through fears. It
would be remiss not to
mention
a deep need for pleasure where fear operates; for if pleasure
is
absent, fear triggers our insecurities. We are then set for a search
in
the direction of pleasure, which increases the intensity of
future episodes
grounded in fears.
