to let go of fear
to be free of doubt
is there a way to stay true
to yourself
when you want something so bad
your lungs refuse your gasps for air
and your body becomes a statue
a pile of stone
cold and unmoving
and finally it is the only state
to exist in
to grow moss and mushrooms
to be the shelter for something innocent
a shrew, a frog
the flickering wing
of a nocturnal creature
alone in the night
© coldscars