What lurks upon the ground
Shrouds the world from lack of color
Seen by the eye; invisible to the touch
Always feeling as if it smothers.
The shortened breaths of a shadow unknown
The cloaked passage
Whenever it falls a chill occurs
Death sends a message.
When we wake we hear the cry
Of a lonely curse and a mournful sigh.
The fog hangs in the air with its long cold dressings
Some may think it's a curse because everything seems depressing.
The birds don't sing, they neither can see nor fly
Because this listless fog makes everyone want to die.
1 comment:
didn't really feel that well about this one. was it foggy when you wrote this??? kind of different form here also. the concept of the fog did make my imagination rev a little. not toooo shabby :)
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