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You have to realize, that self-doubt, that self-hate, that's always going to be there. You gotta be aware of that. You gotta shake hands with it, like an opponent at the beginning of a race, knowing all the while, that you are going to win. Because that thing you think is holding you back, that's just your shadow.

XVI

In a tower I lay waiting,

from this window watch the shore.

In a tower I lay aching

as I sit here on the floor.

Stone is cold and floor is bare.

No mirror here to cut my hair.

Alone I sat for all this year,

my wretched eyes filled up with fear.

On this island lurks a beast.

No fruit or nut will this fiend eat.

On my body he longs to feast,

stalking me with soundless feet.

On the horizon lays a ship.

Into its hull I hope to slip.

Through the darkness must I away.

Another night I cannot stay,

though terror now grips my heart.

Another motive do I have,

no pull so strong as love apart.

Swim must I from ship to nav!

But first I must creep through the wood,

my body under cloak and hood.

Down from window do i cilmb,

and all seems peaceful for a time,

till from darkness comes a rustle.

Gleeming eyes do stare at me.

To the sea tis time to hustle,

if I should want and long to be.

Dive into dark and wet abyss.

I think of all the love I'll miss

if I should fail to swim faster

than the beast who follows after.

Through the water do I struggle

from the beast who longs to snuggle.

I pray that I will live till dawn.

Kick and splash and scream BE GONE!

Swim and swim till I reach ship

and with my hand did grasp a rope.

Once aboard I thanked the skip,

and once more my heart felt hope.

When I asked about the creature

not one could describe a feature.

One saw nothing,the other said

that all he saw was children dead.

I looked up and watched the sky

counting each silver star

inside I knew when each would die

and knew that most would not get far

young Markus was the first to go

but why that was I do not know

you see there was this acident

a twisted nail or bolt was bent

Over and over young Markus stumbled

heels over head, as though it were planned

up gracefully into the air he fumbled

and down on his neck did he land

for seven nights we did row

as the wind refused to blow

It was I who took Markus' place

and his friends I had to face

For even without being told,

they knew where to place the blame.

For that guilt was mine alone to hold,

though to me, it was all the same.

It isn't that I did not care.

I knew in truth it was not fair.

For I knew when each would die.

So out of pity did I lie.

I watch thier faces filled with hate

Thier silent eyes told more than words

Spite and fear and more I tolerate

throw cropse and carcass to the birds

One by one each saylor fell

as to a plague or to a spell

one by one they disapeared

Lost was each, just as I feared.

Final Horror

Stammering desperately, an endless flow of metaphors and hyperbole babble forth as one slowly comes to terms with the final horror of reality: Despite its banal simplicity, no words will do it justice, and nothing will satisfy this thing we call need.