The Mist
I stare down the precipice, looking at my own reflection
Mirrored moonlight in the mist
I pass me by… with no intention
I hear my own voice call, echo’s as it drifts…
Resound off hollow floor then wall
where tears like water drip
Vast caverns of emotions, my heart a drooping Dhali clock
Despite my best intentions
waves break against the rock
Fog-cloaked dampen haze, the footpath now but gone
While cloying tendrils in this daze
pull me toward that sad, sad song
I do not want to shout, I do not want to scream
I just want to be lost
in this… my constant dream
The pain that ripped my brain apart…
It’s done, it’s gone…
only its shadow now lingers on
This weary mist won’t lift; it would not let me be
I am not blind…
yet still… I cannot see
