Friday Fakeout: A Touch of Poetry

Happy Friday, my friends.  Today, instead of a beer review, I’ve got some more writing for you.  A poem, in fact.  Another spur of the moment scribbling of a pen.  More beer and video games tomorrow.  For now, enjoy some poetry, on the house.


A pang of wanting
striking through the heart
of it. A gnawing void of lacked fulfillment,
denying that which we all crave.

A flash of terror, a sudden
bloom. Within the center, the core
of one. Of us, of all, that
driving force, the guiding
hand which governs over everything.

Many names, yet all the same,
this darkness that
we know. We hate. A touch
of misery, felt everyday, despite
the toughest armor
in which we shield ourselves.

Caring not for the victim,
blind to petty differences, this cruelty-
a rare, heartless equalizer.
Regardless the company in
which one finds themselves, safety is an
unknown dream

Fear the call of internal desolation,
the universal reminder of life’s fleeting,
unearned mastery over time. The silent sentinel
who hunts through eternity, reaping
with his subtle horror, his sudden tragedy,
his striking penetration which calls
the Dark.

The moment will show, one day
or the next, when even the strong
will feel the loneliness, the tolling bell
of demise, a shroud of looming
End. The hammer blow will
fall for all, and make known itself as


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