That Which We All Fear

Poem By Jack Ashenden

Sensation of the mind as blackest thought
doth creep upon every walking moment.
I remember it was not what I sought,
these icy rings of eternal torment.
Nothing can describe the painful nightmare
this oft extended, withering grey arm doth bring -
this three hour hell of human despair
of which the invigilator is King.
When over, a thousand sighs of relief
do enter the chillingly silent hall
the now known hand doth re-enter it's sheath,
and now the horror doth truly feel small.
This dream of life leaveth no lasting mark -
But I know this fear lies still in my heart.

Comments about That Which We All Fear

There is no comment submitted by members.

2,0 out of 5
1 total ratings

Other poems of ASHENDEN

No Mistress

Depressing my writing has become
In absence of the perfect one.
With heavy heart, a mistress now to seek
I mentally prepare for another painful week.

Death By Poetry

Oh why do I mourn the loss of my life?
this mediocre poetry does say.
For I am alive and suffer no strife
and so far have kept the reaper away.

Misery My Fate?

Chaotic thoughts whirl around in my head
perhaps you love me, you probably don't
confused feelings leave me wanting my bed
but I can't, I mustn't ask you, I wont


Though time may decay your youthful features,
and dark nicotine lines furrow your brow,
your smile will remain like the miniatures
you create with infallible know how.

Blinding Tears

Responsibility, a heavy load
ways me down, and makes me feel the pressure
action, words - politics all a code
and people's actions, all I must measure


My heart had withered away, pierced right through -
but you came along and pierced my mind too.
The cruellest ache of love has been reborn -
I feel guilt - my conscience is newly torn.