Enlighting the Dark Corners of my Mind

A small flashlight,                                    Digging through the dust of my past,
I'm here for fun, I haven't been here in months...                                 I see all these frozen images.       Some of pain,     Some of joy,         Others of love.                                                            They don't move, They don't speak,              they are fastened solid to their underground, only glancing because I know they were there.               Once                Ago                  
But before me, lies even more past.                     My flashlight doesn't reach that far.              But from one Corridor. There comes sound...
'Fear' It says...                         I have at least One thing that meddles with me.          Again and Again.        It haunts  me.    But never gets to close.
Slowly freezing in those shadowy corners of my past.     Reluctant to freeze, but doomed                     Due to lack of sunlight
It is the loss, of a dearly loved one. Not my parents, not my friends. Never more, then one person at a time.                Never, more then just one single fear.                        One emotion from the past, that sometimes shouts out... Giving me shivers over my body, followed by the anger...              The anger that comes with the love for a single person.                             A detoxication.                                                                             A Paranoia, quickly expelled by the sense, and Ratio.                   Never getting close enough to do damage.                                                      But I love someone,
Russia White roses,                               that so dramatically increased that fear.                                      So                                One fear to go.         One, to face.                          And Irony            O Irony...             It has bursted out of its corridor.                         It has grown to a monster                Beyond Epic proportions,                       And no sword can shackle its skin
I want,           I want, and I will                                   I want you to trust me.
I'll handle this one                     It will scar me, there to remind me.
But it will go away, after biteing,                  noticing, that my skin,
Is made out of solid steel                                                       I drop the flashlight.                                      Grab my sword, And charge....