When does the hammer come down,
when trepidation s fulfilled find us wanting,
and then clouds like dark iron plumes,
gather in earnest to dull a life taken
to the edge of gloom,
the teetering over a clouded abyss,
remiss of regret and assuming reprieve
but receiving a blood-letting,
a mark of no return?
Are we so arrogant as to think
we are above reproach,
approached as we’ve been by truth,
only to dismiss it out of the ruse
that we are unbreakable,
life just an inconvenient use of self-reflection,
not real or an obstacle of little effect,
rather a step not as yet taken,
and we untouched by any tribulation?
When the hammer comes down
are we accessible, adaptable,
so we may survive the ordeal,
or perhaps lost in the presumption of security,
so far sending recompense to obscurity,
and scoffing at the very prospect of a fall,
or will we just implode,
know that we have failed us
and when push comes to shove, left wanting.
Life may teach us by example
the very folly of our thoughts,
yet some adapt to arrogant sorts of response,
and in that abscond with truth,
have it left festering not faced,
traced back to our own pride and neglect,
and traces of respect not yet granted;
but if we do not face ourselves,
when that hammer comes down,
we will be lost, even drown.
Beware the sound, the hammer coming down,
abide the truth and face the self be true.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
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