Where is the beginning to a never ending story?

A child sleeps in fear as a mother pats they’re back

As an attempt to reassure them the thunder is

But only the sound of drums thudding from heaven.

The blaring light is from God

Taking a photograph of the world he created.

The rain violently hitting the window when a sudden

softball size cluster of ice breaks the protective barrier

that was the only safe place left besides the child’s

mothers touch across they’re back

Is but all part of God’s plan.


The neverending story has no beginning,

It has no middle and will never reach a conclusive

And apparent ending.

The fear a child has will never float away

As we had wished it would along with every gust of wind

That carries more rain into the safety palace

With sticks, ice, monstrous sounds, and evil spirits.

Fear is an acquaintance and will forever live under our beds,

Watch us as we sleep, and be ready to latch onto our backs

Where our mother’s hand once laid.

Fear is the neverending story.

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