The spirit in me
Is ruthless and hates to slumber
Tireless it wanders
Creating pictures and ideas
That may manifest
In the best ways possible
But then it stops to take a breath
And that’s when the doubt comes in
She twirls around the spirit
Whispering sweet nothings
Seducing Spirit to give up.
That nothing it does is worth it
That nothing it does will ever be good enough
For anyone
Not even for myself
But the spirit is strong
Just like my ancestors.
My ancestors where strong and fierce warriors.
Some who never gave up until they took their last breath.
So as much as doubt hits me and seduces me,
I
Cannot
Fall.