It sprouts in doses
It pinches and creates a frenzy in the head
A glaring stop sign hanging in mid air It is,
As though it might just drop at the exact moment I pass under
What if I sprint fast enough?
Will I beat it to the finish line?
Is there a finish line?
It is “the fear”
Fear of the angel and the demon within,
Fear of flying and having our wings torn down all the same,
Fear of losing the grip on the leash,
Leash around what you may ask?
I have no answers.
Fear of rising above those around us,
And fear of losing them in the journey,
Fear of being possessed by the power,
The power to lead change,
Fear of dyeing self with new colors,
New colors of self found during my self exploring voyage
Fear of unknown,
Fear of obligations and expectations,
Catch me if you can say those two words,
Then crawls out the fear,slithering through the gaps,
The fear of being trapped in the maze while playing the game,
Fear of fear itself.
I ask again,
Will it and its allies drop the bomb as I pass, sprinting across?