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Its veil that surrounds me, Soft and secure, In thin, sleepy wonder, The world is obscure. The thick air heralds thoughts Of misty ship moorings A sloop, gliding in to rest
Oh what a fog I glimpsed today; in a peculiar way, it steamily lay. It seemed to say “hello” and “hey” and depraved the morning day of its fresh ache, suspending heartbreak
There is a veil over my eyes,One thick, and made of fog,Made of years of sighs,And risen from a malodorous bog,
Tip toeing the trail of self destruction Teetering on the edge on insanity Submerged my soul in sulfuric acid Sewed my eyes shut from reality It's over when you can't break down
When tears slip down her bronze skin, She seeks warmth from the fire. So far away, she craves it with a Burning desire. The crisp winds shroud her in the cold.
Settling downward, the road’s early haze Unable to see height of trees as I gaze The world now shadowy, and dim, and shy Seamless grey stretches across the chilled sky.
In the summer dawn I took to the mountain and field, Hopping the creek, and breathing the spearmint yield. Passing the pond, I startle the heron perched in the pine,
A thick fog prevents sight This ship is at the hands of God Out of hopelessness there's no flight The vessel was crafted flawed
A worn out face stares through the fog, forgotten voices fill her head. The dripping of the constant rain, diminishes the never ending pain. Two dim lights finally appear,
Weeks on end this fog has not lifted It blurs my vision and my mind's nerves are racing crashing, connecting, circling tangling itself with this dense fog. Today, the skies are gloomy
Dazed and without sleep,
I remain here. I'm frozen in place, No one is here to warm me. No one is here to wipe my tears. No one is here to hear my screams. No one is here to chase away my fears
Winter Flows Through Me, While life is changing now. Life dies slowly now.
Alexis. That is my name. Many know it. Few get to know me past it. Shy, quiet, smart is all they see. Though one cannot blame them. Those three are all they are allowed to percieve.
He is winter. He is the excitement that takes over. His eyes are snowflakes, drifting in the wind, carpeting the land in a cloak of white. His lips are the colors only shown by the setting sun, colors of pink.
Pillows of cotton settle drifting like ghosts masking the view of towering stone hair curling in the palpable air drooping eyelids, heavy breath heels on concrete clicking in step
The sky looks dark The sun comes out but cannot be seen The coughing begins The air is as thick as soup
How do you make sense of an upside down chair when the sky sees the surface that belongs to the eyes of the earth put it right side up again and then finally it is useable yellow chairs bowing to the trees
Floating Hovering above where I want to be Reality isn't about keeping calm or carrying on Reality is fog in a forest Orange trees swallowed whole Unaware of what is said or heard
Good morning and good night To you whose always let me down We're dancing apart in this twilight You're rising sun tares me down. I followed you into te haze Not realizing you never looked back
I love the fog Making an ordinary night dark and mysterious your mind racing questions puzzling you what lies behind the grand doors of mist the unknown
This fog, it so enchants my worldto make a man out of a tree.What sort of creature will it tryto make, then, out of me?
I would wait for weather right And when it is, it’s often night. I roll and cover hills and plains And reduce the vigil of lords and thanes.
The way the rain disturbs the waves, the small splatters in the silence. The fog covers the sea to stop us from seeing water hitting water, causing bigger waves; a disturbance to normality.