Fear of...

Fear of not being loved
And that my heart will stop,
Not finding a way to beat,
Not finding a way to still work.
I fear the world's doom will come
And I have no one to share that moment with,
Having to share it with a mirror,
Having to share it with myself,
Having to share it with loneliness anyway.
Fear of having to live like this
And that Miss Death won't come
To take my warm hand 
With her cold one
To take me to that place,
They say it is better.
And finally when I finish
I ask myself,
Is this cheesy?