a light at the end of the tunnel is the freedom in the words I type Where would I be without the steady click of my mind laying into the soft caress of a screen, as for paper it's insolent and my pen it ran out of ink The lines I draw, are only in my mind as I've seemed to have misplace the valley where the dead rest The tangible object where many of writers have left their soul The pages where have they gone ? The smell, and the history, all here in this screen A bird sits at my window sill as if waiting for me to deliver some sort of message she will fly and soar and anyone who lays on her will know that I couldn't deliver the message I was told to write I couldn't jump over to the other side I couldn't make it through the forest without becoming more lost I didn't try hard enough, I let fear take hold. I wanted so badly to become The one, the one you all need, but the tree's they laid witness to trial after trail of failure laid between the click of a keyboard a new generation of the vessel that we use to pour our souls into my thoughts captured before my eyes and just one click and you will all see and maybe you will feel the failure IΒ Β carry the failure i've never confronted myself with a perfectly honest revelation of how I failed you all, of how I couldn't jump, of how I let the fear of the pain get in the way of the success of a champion. Now I'm in my room feet firmly planted in reality and i still feel the fear I still feel the self doubt the feeling that no matter how many times I jump i'll always fall short I'll never make it to the other side I'll never be a person solidified in a vessel whose soul was felt whose soul was known I'll never bring the world together, or sacrifice I'll most likely be average I'll mostly likely die without hearing the sound of my giant crowd.