A poem, light and gay, frivolous and fun, or deep and dark.
A Dark Fog.
I lived a winter's world
blind to spring and summer
a cold heart that shuddered to a halt
as times quarters fused to mist,
I knew not night nor day
fog dissolved my mind
I drifted in that fog
cold as the tomb,
heard no bell toll.
Neither ghost nor man
neither alive nor dead,
drowning in emptiness of anguish.
Shapeless as the fog and dumb
I drifted an eternity of nothing,
moving as if wrapped in a blanket of ice;
which is real, which is sleep,
a wandering spectre
to whom the tomb was closed.
