The pressure of being back on the trail,
Committed to this road again,
By my own pressure, desire, intent.
I know what I should do,
But the anxiety grabs me,
Shakes my neck,
Implores me to run away.
And if I give up, back down,
The pressure leaves, but after,
I feel defeated, an empty coward.
So before I give up,
I must remember that feeling,
And use it to act,
To speak,
For to know defeat by others,
Is better by far,
Than to defeat oneself.
