Some say the fear of heights
Wrongly labels the fright:
It’s not the peak or drop;
We fear the dire stop
At the end of the flight.

This cuts too fine a slice:
The fear continues to rise
The more one climbs,
Far above the line
that assures one’s demise.

One fears not just one’s fate
At the end of a fall so great,
The further one descends
Until the final, fatal end,
The longer the horrific wait.

The horror also runs so deep
To cover the thought that says “leap.”
Thus, it could be said
That the heights I dread
Includes the foul fear of me.

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