It grows slowly in my mind
planted as a seed
what its left behind
is nothing lesser than a tree
which soon became a forest, indeed,
with predators unkind.

In the dark they growl
send shivers up my spine
they make me howl
and cry these fowl tears of mine!

They are Fear's evil minions,
attached to his dark coat
of which I am a fettered pinion
of a free boat.

They say he is of my imagination
an undiscovered part of myself
but I have created no creature of such amalgamation
how many times have I been told
by both young and old:

To overcome and to believe
it seems they want to please
but they've put me ill at ease.

Yet, one part of my mind
reasons that he is a helpful soul
and the good God, so kind,
put him there so that he could be the coal
to the fire of my ambition.