Mystic flux

I tried and tried, whined and cried Friendship dear has long since died And now I'll be away at last Outrunning bony reaching shadows past Tired of waiting came decision fast Nought to lose my vote was cast I still regret mistakes I've made But now they don't cause hope to fade Work and work both day and night Long now past the wane of light Tomorrow comes and I prepare For One to come so sweet and fair Wait no more for beauty rare A faith divine and not a care

It's like a dream cycle Dark voice telling me I will fail How can I succeed? A loser like me Look at all these pretty things just don't look too close They show the facade of the wizard for what it is A farce, Still I struggle to find myself, to find what really matters. I have things, a few at least, that give me status somewhere above the dregs but I judge myself as others do, the ones who really don't matter. The ones who do accept my state and work to help advance, there is only one and the best I can do is accept myself and truly lead the way.

I've defined and declared Dreamed and despaired I've blamed and defamed Denied and decried I've let myself loose on this journey so many years in planning unaware that my worst enemy was waiting just down the path to ambush me. Insidious and nearly insurmountable fear holds me in it's grip and numbs my sensation, blocks my inspiration. Fear is my comfort, companion, excuse; a reason to hide away and guarantee my outcome. Why is failure by inaction comfortable? Why can I not see this when I need to, in the moment of suspended time when consequence is far removed from inaction? Time and successes will bring renewed direction and invigorate the creative process but it's so much harder with such a small support system to fall back on. No one will be here for me so I must find it within myself to soldier on and succeed at all cost.