The Mist
written by: Brad Osborne
Is it cloud that falls so gently
When mountain top is kissed
Or does it rise from the valley
This cold and haunting mist
All pale shapes and grey shadows now
Sight rendered all but blind
Like whiskey drunk too fast somehow
A fogging of the mind
Unknown fears in every crease
Fears never of knowing
My will cannot command you to cease
And keep my fears from growing
Being trapped in ghostly blanket
Suffered your icy chill
Yea sun would come I will thank it
And temper failing will
If but scant rays could break rampart
And glimmer added hue
A warmth to spirit and to heart
Gained strength to see this through
Should graced light fail and hope abide
My journey will not stop
All my fears must be put aside
If goal the mountain top
So, taunt me now you evil mist
You cruel, sadistic haze
Battle you, my will to exist
Earning my brighter days
Set upon me your eerie wrath
You may have chosen me
But I the chooser of my path
Will choose my destiny
- Unafraid of the Dark - April 8, 2024
- Poetic Injustice - December 8, 2023
- I Was Never Brave - August 15, 2023
