Terror

“The first time I met the blues
People, you know I was walkin’, I was walkin’ down through the woods”
(Little Brother Montgomery, 1937)

Lethal
If you look directly at terror
it drills a hole in your soul.

“Yes, I’ve watched my house burnin’ blues
Blues, you know you done me, you done me all the harm that you could.”

Invasive
terror breaks into your space
gagging your senses.

“The blues got after me
People, you know they ran me from tree to tree.”

Chronic
terror stalks you
infecting your sleep.

“Yes, you should-a heard me beg ya, blues
Ah, blues, don’t murder me.”

Pernicious
terror abducts your identity
and devours your soul.

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