The cold fingers of doubt
Gripping at my throat
And I would pull them away
But for this paralyzing fear...
Eating away at my mind
Toying with my logic,
It has no place here.
Yet here it is
Relentlessly stalking me--
Best friends they are,
Fear. Doubt.
Two of a kind they are,
And they've got their sights on me.
Working their magic before my eyes
Digging my grave with the tools I made
With the intent to bury me alive;
I feel their icy touch
Cold to the bone
But my instincts aren't in control
I'm trying... I'm trying to run away.
Unresponsive my body remains calm--
This is not a exhibition of skill
Nor a challenge of physical strength,
No, this is much much more:
A showcase of wills,
A revelation of wits...
A battle for the mind.