Thoughts ought to travel softly along thread thin nerves ending in action,
Juggernaut plots, to get me up and out of my stagnant pool of tears and traction,
Who is the Juggernaut, you ask?
That is my task to get behind the mask and lure it out of the shadows,
What person or presence is the task master who'll push me to the gallows
Of defeat.  The slow heavy feet, older than the body, the owner of the ugly toes
I am not ready,
I am too young,
My hand is not steady,
I am too high strung,
Looking behind the mask, and into the darkness, the more I look the more I run out of time,
Hands spinning wildly as the Juggernaut defends both the End of and the Beginning of,
Another Year,
Yes it is the Time of the Juggernaut, Happy New Year, relentless promise cupped in two hands,
don't let it slip, from your palms and through your fingers,
                       a harbinger or bright and shiny hope bringer?
You decide,
It is your year,
Now I must go and slay my Juggernaut, cuz' it is a draggin' me down in flames,
Remember if you feed yours instead of fight, you just might be the taste that
wets your juggernauts' appetite.  I have heard...
it stops hurting after the first bite.




©DWE122013