End of the Line

End of the Line



Consumed like a passion

that exceeds its limited energy,

like a sorrow when anger

gets a foothold,

my anger tightens, incapable

of finding culmination or the subsiding

soothing aftermath of shame or reason.


       Around the circle, banishment from joy

and movement, the scattering of dead seeds.

       Through the circle, a chance to develop,

foster trust in the goodness presenting,

to rest my head, release the futile struggle

and devote my intelligence

to examining this foreign peace.


But the ladder has been demolished,

and I cannot climb without it

or travel the same path, going around.

I will not withstand being chained again

to such an unrelenting foe,

wearing this false face

fated to merge with and shadow

my own.



Copyright © 2022 by Allison Grayhurst




Published in “Creation and Criticism, Vol. 07” October 2022





First published in “Medusa’s Kitchen” July 2022




You can listen to the poem by clicking below:


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