Anxiety Itself

Anxiety Itself

What is it I am Afraid of?
Anxiety itself.
Failure, stress itself, being unable to do what is asked of me,
Of being uncertain what to do.
“OK, I have help somewhere in this world,
And even if I never find them
I can just focus on the task at hand.”
“But I hate ‘the task at hand’,
“The task at hand” is what makes me so afraid.
I have been beaten and bloodied and literally left for dead,
By “The Task at Hand”.
I gather all my conscious strength,
Attack the “Task at Hand”,
It bites me back.
My sublimated fear and anger and that ever present Anxiety
Rise up and overcome my conscious will.
Anxiety Itself controls my hands,
And I am blooded.

I will Remember you LORD,
You leading me,
You beside me,
You helping me.
You will be my constant companion,
I will leave “The Task at Hand”
So that Anxiety Itself may not destroy me.
You tell me you would rather I lived.
You say you would rather
I be a task of the heart.
Thy will be done, not mine,
And not the will of those who

Say they know me,
But have far, far, far… less than the least idea what I am about,
I understate.
Those who love me live in a place farrrrrrrrrrrr below Wishwood,
For they torture me with intent to kill,
Rather than just kill.