Surely it has or will happen when we are faced with seemingly (or actually) “damned if we do; damned if we done.” This poem attempts to depict this, when we are skewered on the horns of a dilemma.

(Will return Saturday.)

Before The Hour Came

Do not wait for the last judgment. It takes place every day.

—Albert Camus


Will I do it or will I not?

This is the question—

the mêlée brawls within this soul

as logic turns dumb. Crosshairs stare into my eyes.

Conviction dissolves beneath my feet.

My will sinks into delirium.


Free will is never free

a voice whispers from the Holy Book.


Uncertainty jousts, parries, thrusts,

leaves my will skewered and numb

on the crossroad sign


before the hour came


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