I shall speak of the Siren known as Fear. I do this now because the more I dote on her, the more time I lend to her cause, the larger her arsenal grows. I just have to hope and pray she is not listening.

Fear is forgiving, enticing for all the wrong reasons and the most influential of the Femme Fatales, she is the oldest after all. She wants nothing from you, not your blood nor your sweat. Perhaps, once in a while, she shall ask for a tear but what is one drop in the proverbial ocean?

The only route she will ever guide you down is the easiest, the back door, the way out, a pile of sand waiting for your head.

All of the aforementioned shall lead you away from your problems and into the blissful arms of her sister Ignorance.

Who would wish to fight when flight means no party looses out? The desired outcome (or so she would have you believe).

Seductively she lulls you into a sense of security, a sense of conviction.

While you shy away however, the monsters you run so desperately from get to play.