Mental Mountain

A latent prick of fear
started at the root of my head.

It was a terrifying feeling
that I alone could dread.

"Keep this tension quiet"
I repeated in my mind,

but really was convinced
that my brain had gone blind.

My head quivered automatically.

I was utterly unstable.
My heart beat much too fast;

more quickly than ‘twas  able.

I wished that it would end,

for then my breath was caught.

This battle won't be over
before I go to rot.

But the worst of the illness has passed.

I’ve resurfaced, and it’s splendid!

This year has been a mountain,

and now I have descended.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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