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Robbie  Jan 2014
Fog
Robbie Jan 2014
Fog
Swift as nightfall, it closes in
Rolling over sea still as glass
Thicker than smoke, darker than sin
The fog, it tumbles in an impenetrable mass
Blocking out the early light of day

With tiny footsteps it creeps to the dock
Softly stirring secret shadows
Standing quiet, observing, I in my night frock
Some part of me still dreaming of distant meadows
Moving swiftly, it devours the very last of the sun’s rays

I wrap my robe around me
Making my way out of doors
The fog, it deepens, struggling to be free
And like a cat, crawls on all fours
Up and over and past the bay

Frightfully quick now it surges on
Some part of me murmurs that my feelings are wrong
My mind urges, “Do not fall prey to nature’s con!”
Yet the sweet, seductive calling of the fog’s siren song
Sends me dreamwalking into its heavy gray

My spirits start to soar
Engulfed and held by the fog’s thickening grasp
Against my mind’s desire, I want more
And as the fog turns suffocating, I gasp
Falling to my knees in this place I long to stay

The fog, ever enveloping me in its endless cloak
Whispers words of freedom like the loveliest of poem
I close my eyes, tripping, slipping, fumbling, tumbling, giving in to the beauty of the smoke
Knowing deep inside that I am home
And in the fog, forever I lay
Norbert Tasev Jan 2022
Dreamwalking Reality-mistaken alleys stumbles and deliberate devil-convulsions the Third; signs of mistaken madness are visible! Vulnerable man's shadow may be deliberately transgressed by bargaining bargainers, treacherous cops! More and more whispers of odd eccentrics sink the beginning of creative days into baseless mood-setting!

Collapsed hoppers leap like grasshoppers in a dance of the Spirit's march, restraining itself even the puffed-up All! And in all pseudo-news there stands the possibility, as a vocal, obscene-music to be shouted with full throats! The infinite depth of needle is scarcely to be sought and discovered! Money and luxury have become the new age's newest pseudo-god! From the pits of endangered credulities Only the curve of descent can be described! In the melodious pauses of melodious raindrops, mood-steam is created: a rainbow graveyard as a consequence of precise interplay!

A series of secret was-nots! In the conscious moments of wakefulness, superstitious eyes also perform a total-entire cross-country; with a reverse change of style, they could even cling to the pieces of fabric of a rathartic, proud reality! Among the murderous impulses rooted in inequality, the traitor changes hands for the umpteenth time!  They may think: a series of crushing, bans will solve everything! No one thinks of going down the road of reconciliation of interests!

— The End —