There is a sound from behind you,
You turn and there is nothing there.
You carry on walking this lonely path,
Alone, with your vision obscured.
This dense fog came out of nowhere,
And you feel those shivers deep inside.
The cold penetrates through your coat,
You wish you had taken another way home.
That sound of snapping twigs comes again,
You see something in the corner of your eye.
You turn quickly to face what it must be,
But once again, there is nothing there.
As you turn and you quickly walk on,
You catch that glimpse once again.
Just that little bit out of your full vision,
Only a vague sight of those shadows in the fog.
You see the beginning of the street lamps ahead,
And as you hear those sounds once more, you run.
You heart is pumping fast and you feel it now,
That icy hand of fear gripping hold of your soul.
The safety of the lights make this fog now bearable,
You smile at yourself for being scared of maybe nothing.
You look behind you, back at the way you had come,
Then you hear dark laughter from the shadows in the fog.
copyright Chris Smith 2010