Fast Is Time Passing Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Prolonged can be,
Our most frightening nightmares.
Remembered in detail to describe.
As goosebumps on arms rise,
To widen eyes.
And bring a chill to warm air,
Surrounding anyone brave enough...
Daring to imagine,
One's fear endured.

And yet,
Kept to keep...
Are those never too late days,
We await to procrastinate them.
Awaiting them to stay and linger.
Like parchment documented,
With quilled and feathered pens.
Representing revisited beginnings.
Ancestors witnessed...
To have seen them end.
And yet,
Kept to keep...
Are these unrealized fantasies.
Thriving as if immortalized,
In weathered stone erected...
By names unknown.
In cemeteries manicured,
Behind iron black painted fences.

Those never too late days,
Never to return to delude them...
As progress made,
To find today an escape...
From the escalating darkness,
Thoughts of haunting fears...
Created and remain to have caused.