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.
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