Poem: Walk Through the Fear

I walked with Fear at break of dawn,
Its shadow stitched across the lawn.
It spoke in whispers cold and thin,
Of every fight I could not win.

It wore the faces of my doubt,
Turned every lantern inside out.
The road grew sharp beneath my feet,
The wind forgot the word retreat.

Fear told me storms would split the sky,
That hope was just a softer lie.
It placed its weight upon my chest
And dared me not to take one step.

But somewhere in the darkened wood,
A quieter voice beside me stood.
Not louder than the crashing rain,
Not free from sorrow, loss, or pain—

Just steady as a heartbeat’s drum,
It said: Keep walking. Do not run.
So step by step, through ash and night,
I learned that courage was not light.

It was the trembling hand held tight,
The choice to move despite the fright.
And when the morning finally grew,
Fear walked beside me—smaller, too.