The Morning breaks Gray,
Nothing to do, Nothing to say.
As it begins, the Mist seeps in,
Writhing and Twirling
Like Tendrils of wind
Caught in a dust devil,
Made of Mists so thin.
Where does this mist end,
And I begin, feeling it.....
.....seep into my skin.
I walk through a Hall
And with each Foot Fall
The sound smothered by Fog
Echos in Silence, Off of a Bog
Foot Falls go on and on
Searching for a Dawn
A break that would clear
To let the Light Near
But each mist that's light
leads back to the Night
Of Eternal Darkness.....JMF 1/13/15