I lived on dread; to those who know
The stimulus there is
In danger, other impetus
Is numb and vital-less.
As 't were a spur upon the soul,
A fear will urge it where
To go without the spectre's aid
Were challenging despair.
I'm starting the day before the Dread of Tomorrow's historic day! Another poem from the Dreader of Dread, Emily Dickinson.
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