Holding on to precious memories
Ever so tightly,
Whilst haunted by "The Big Finale"
Daily and nightly.

Anxiety is the heart's painful pounding beat,
Fear of time slipping away - having it ripped From under one's feet.

Years feel like days,
Months feel like minutes,
Precious moments escaping,
Bound and confined by limits.

Life now resembles
Only a few remaining quick blinks of the eyes,
Trying not to dwell
On the sad,
Cold,
Hard,
Depressing facts;
Suppressing tears - internal
Are the soul's echoing cries.

By Lady R.F ©2016