We Are Mortal
Driven by fear and desperation,
the hours tick by
as faint whispers of panic become louder,
a suspected truth unable to be seen.
A brewing storm buffets the angry spirits,
coming out of a dim past to pound against the walls
demanding attention.
Thunder echoes with the whine of rising wind,
emptiness seems alive with a fright and tension
that builds on a single terrifying fact –
We are mortal.
Moment by moment, a tight coil of tension,
drawn to the breaking point,
seems like years which have halted the flow of time;
rooted in the walls of hearts and souls.
A instant of quiet,
the unending chill of terror,
as the hand of death brushes close;
then moves away, stirring the musty air
with a touch filled with overwhelming scents of
anxiety and dread.
My time has not come.
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