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The Final Hour

I’m enraged.

An angry wave,

And tears in the shower.

Why must I lack the power,

To stop the monsters lurking?

When what we’re doing isn’t working,

And I want to say,

I quit this place,


Where do I put the hate?


I’m afraid.

Into fear, I gave.

But the world, I’ll scour.

Despite the constant irking,

No duties will I be shirking.

Stubbornness on display,

An emotional ballet.


Perhaps it’s only fate.


Memories fade,

And silence pervades

In the final hour.

At death’s door, I cower.

And Death, casually smirking,

Is barely even disturbing,

After living through the fray.

Now, it’s judgment day.


And I have a messy slate.


Written for Fandango’s Dog Days of August #11 – ‘Your greatest fear’

6 thoughts on “The Final Hour

  1. Pingback: Spoiled for Choice

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