FEARLESS
(THE CRY OF A TORN HEART)
Relax, don't be afraid, stand fearless.
These echoes bewilder my failing heart
In resonance,
I hear the voices beckoning
Hold on they say
Be fearless they cry.
Fearless.
Now my mind wanders
What doth this mean?
Shall I cast away fear
Or shall I fear but less?
Shall I not be afraid
Or shall I be afraid only but a little?
My soul searches.
What call is this?
If you say that I fear not
How shall I betray the trust of my emotions?
Who shall teach me this subtle art of subterfuge?
For deeply seated in the dark of my heart
is a ponder so heavy I might faint.
My soul searches again.
What call is this?
If you say that I fear less
Tell me I pray you
How to make less that which has no measure
Abundant
The English man calls it
Yet he has no measure for that which he has named
My soul searches
And you answer me not.
If I find solace in fear
Then fear I must
And until you find a measure,
Speak no more to me of
FEAR-LESS
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