Tears trickle down my cold felt cheek
My inner struggle close to admitting defeat
Worries lie down a one-way lonesome street
And fear is my heartfelt work of art
This is my JIHAD
For this is my test
To surpass or fall short, I ought to do my best
Woes cannot get the empathy of me
Failing would be the death of me
And obtaining the win is all I should see
We all have a JIHAD
The inner struggle is by no means obsolete
But how we deal with it decides if we will defeat
The part of me that moves in a rhythmic motion (the heart)
Is never uninhabited or in commotion
If I entrust that to memory
It’s unadorned to see
I can get all the way through it…
This inner struggle
That causes the fear that is my heartfelt work of art
-Assata
Last update : 21-10-2004 20:32
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