Once upon a time
There was a passion,
Like burning fire,
Boiling water,
Saturated with desire.
The thirst of needing to be seen,
To be heard,
To be free as a soaring bird
Was unquenchable and
Unquestionable.

It was so clear
It ruled out the anxiety
And the fear
Of being judged
Being wrong
And being crushed.

Now that passion has burned out,
Drained,
Pale;
What is left is the anxiety
The possibility
To fail.