Sometimes you think that deep in your heart
Lies a fear insurmountable;
And every breath you take in and out,
For your each blessing is held accountable.
But sometimes this fear is overcame
By a rush of strong adrenaline,
For which sometimes, over confidence, we blame,
And never really seek the truth within.
People think it remains always,
Somewhere within you, held captive,
Because you don't seem to have that power,
To let this fear, charge you active.
To believe in this and do nothing;
To hold it down with a weight un-budging;
To hide all with a veil as thick,
As of the condemned fear we count so grudging.
What people do not know are the cons
That we bring upon ourselves each second,
In which we push this growing fear,
Down to make our story a legend.
But some still do persist out there,
Who make this fear a weapon to win
A fight against growing weak-will,
And find in it their thrill.
Out there are some who still love,
The pumping of blood in their veins so loud,
The pounding in their ears profound,
Of the rush of adrenaline you crave, but can't get.
People say fear is an ugly virtue;
They say it tears you apart.
Obviously, they never read the story,
Of the men, who with its help, made it so far.
Fear is a weapon to kill or die;
To enjoy the adrenaline, to condemn all weakness;
Or it is a tool you can stab,
In the heart of an inferior so you might fly.
Fear is a weapon in your hand,
To win this fight against itself.
Just a little physics to convert it into adrenaline,
And on the peaks of thrill you shall find yourself.