The Fog


The turmoil Follows

And endless weaving line

As mush as I do gather

It isn’t at all sublime

Abhorrent, a disaster

Weeping at the find

Travesty, injustice

Amoral it is true

Ridiculed no more

Now, (you) tow the line

The fog doth

Roll in.

To me it is a friend

Envelopes and comforts

Surrounds me; amends

Watch out it is foggy

It’ll distort

cloak and dagger ways

Forcing the truth

Devouring the lies

It seeps in


Eating out decay

A frenzy of decomposition

Shows the true scene

A fragile

shell of disaster

Blows away in the wind


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