Fear, my muse, you evil thing.
Crawling into my comfort, changing everything.
Fight or flight- while rational actions subside.
Seeping in, before a bright and sunny day will arise.
Oh damn you fear; all the discomfort and uncertainty you bring.
Yet is it the fight the fear or fly forward with the ever-changing wind?
Oh miserable muse, how I wish to hate you.
But you are the force. The push. The cataclysmic move.
So fight, then flight. Saying goodbye to my lovely, not-yet-worn and comfortable ways.
Traded in for change. That promise of ever-new, ever-enriching days.