Vapors lingering
Fogs of deceit
Sticky whispers floating
That I’m incomplete
Why must you too
Be part of the refrain
Isn’t it enough
Of course I am lame
How can I explain
What I don’t yet understand
That hands in the fog
Often feel like wet sand
Almost, but not quite
There, but gone
Melody begins
And then it is done
Is it really safer
To cry in the night
Or be still in the darkness
And watch whispers loose sight
Once I notice
Twice I hear
Three goes into
My chambers of fear
So even whispers now echo
They float in my bog
Slipping from one to three so easily
There’s hands in the fog
Sadly touch is lost
Only was briefly found
Is it echos or real
Can I even hear their sound?
I just shirk and flinch
Start and withdraw
The echos in threes
The pain is still raw.
Photo mage from THE FOG – Comprehend The Invisible
