I Must Not Fear

I must not fear,
for fear is a shadow that whispers lies,
a thief in the night, stealing calm from skies.
It creeps, it claws, it binds the soul,
a phantom echo, a blackened hole.

Fear is the mind-killer,
the venom that taints the well of thought,
a poison that leaves the spirit caught
in webs of doubt, in chains unseen,
a tempest roaring where peace has been.

But I will face my fear,
standing steadfast beneath its storm.
Let its winds howl, its thunder deform—
I will not cower; I will not flee.
I am the storm; the storm is me.

I will permit it to pass,
like rain through the roots, like wind through the trees,
a fleeting moment, a breath on the seas.
Its power wanes as it courses through,
a shadow dissolving in the morning dew.

And when it has gone,
I will turn the inner eye to trace
its broken path, its hollowed space.
Where fear once dwelled, there will be none—
the night recedes; the battle is won.

Only I remain,
a vessel of strength, a beacon of light,
unshaken, untamed, a spirit of might.
For fear is fleeting, a ghost to defy,
and I am eternal, as stars in the sky.