John Prophet

As I Write

Moment.
As I
write, the
moment passes.
Sliding behind,
never
to return.
As I write
history created.
History being
built.
Frozen
in the
past.
Memorialized,
falling.
Falling
into the
past.
Fading.
Fading,
like all
who
have come
before.
Never
to be
seen again.
Never
to be
known again.
Time
evaporates,
evaporates
into nothing.
The past
is gone!
Nothing
but the
now.