My Victorious One

When fleeting doubts,
By shadows sown,
Creep into my mind,
I pull a tome
of memory
from among its kind.
It's cover's worn,
Or it would be,
If it had a form.
Just let us say
'Tis often drawn
To feed Soul, and warm.
In the pages
I see your face,
Your form, your green eyes.
I hear your voice,
'Most feel your touch,
Your breath as it flies.
I hear you say
With confidence,
"It'll all turn out!"
And in my mind
You, conquering,
Vanquish all my doubt.