Fog is a ****** to fight,
You cannot punch it
Or choke it or
Throw it to the floor,
It's just there,
Damp,
Clammy and utterly inviolate

Like the inner workings of another's soul,
We can reach out but never grasp
Another's soul to our chest,
We can soar across
The wastes of space
Yet never quite reach them,

No matter how we try another's soul
Is theirs and once broken,
Perhaps no amount of love nor care can fill
The void created and
Never when that void is full
Of vinegar spite and
Ire