A heavy mist
chokes the hills
rolls and unfurls
down to an unsuspecting
tired little town

The beacon that shines
fails to penetrate
through the threatening folds
of the mist that strangles
the solemn chapel

A family sees the peril
and cowers in their home
fearful of this mysterious entity
as it climbs down
their chimney

The fathers seething cries
do nothing to dispel the spirit
for the mist holds no mercy
no prejudice
no opinion
no conviction

The mist
just consumes
in it's hazy
laisex fais way

......

By morning the mist has sunk
into the sewers
the graves
the very soul of the town itself

But it still lives
it's pulse felt
in every petrified heartbeat

The mist can still be seen
through the still eyes
of the villagers

Each tear shed
is symbolic
to emotion dead

And their eyes

Oh! Their sullen eyes

Have become dry.