Fog

FOG

Fog descended artlessly across mind’s harried hills,
creeping into corners, holding shattered edge,
folding through the memories, shielding old beliefs,
hiding sore realities; gripping reason’s pledge.

In the depths of drifting thought, hope chilled,
huddled on horizon’s grappled breast,
with vision clouded through the mist of fear,
logic crucified; truth wore terror’s dress.

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About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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