To a man of knowledge, I am of potential,
To a mother with hope, I have a future,
To a father so confident, I am to succeed,
But, for me, the one who lives with the soul,
I have no future, no potential, and no drive for success.

I have shackled myself
To the unseen power of failure that floats over me.
I am in dooms of darkness, in a fight to save my soul.
A war more raging then the agony of Troy,
A fear so relentless, that if not conquered, shall see the end of me.

Being the scarred soul that I am,
It is hard to say when this battle began.
Was it the battle waged by age and the the lack of knowledge?
Or was it the reverent power of knowledge, and the coming of it?

It is this great power of the unknown, that is my enemy,
One that surrounds my weakness, planning its victory,
Thus, I set sail on a journey for clarity,
The one element that is to guide me.

My only virtue, in this battle,
Whether it be against or for knowledge
Is that I shall rise triumphant.