Doubt

The first to go was me of course,

 I stood upstairs; full of remorse.

To giggles, smiles and acting afraid, 

Stars exploding could be made, 

With paper Mache and tricks of light, 

All to set up a stage fight.

How could I perform a stage fight?

I was pulling at the strings of many chances,

Could I brave such wild expanses?

As black-clad doubts bring a hurricane of emotion,

I was longing for the end of this commotion.

As a cadet; sailing upon a sea,

Yet I was hollow with doubt as can be. 

Upon a parade night feeling proud and cheer, 

All soon to be gone with doubt's leer. 

Waiting for the end of doubt in the dark, 

With all positivity barren and stark. 

All to become a good sailor. 

How could I be a good sailor? 

Chased by thoughts and doubt's wrath, 

Longing to go on a chance's path, 

But the light just won't turn on, 

My thoughts could run a marathon. 

Soon, my chances will teach me lessons so deep, 

That beyond the stage and a sailor's keep, 

The twisting faces that make the stage, 

Can start a fresh, new page. 

And a sailor's battered boat, 

Can weave courage that a poet wrote. 

Yes, this is an excellent antidote. 

It's not what doubts that touches you, 

For your heart can make them true, 

It's about seeking virtues in your day. 

Facing your tasks to leave doubt's way.