It streches into the crevices

Of our molding foundation
Barely visible on the surface
The problem lies within
I let the black mist envelope me
Corroding my movements
Spinning silken silence
The tormented soil my beneath my feet
Is withering away
And I don't care
I tried to walk on the surface
Where the warmth of the sun hit my face
I wanted to claim the power that was not mine
Took it by force to be banished
Blessed with isolation
I am hated
It gives me strength
The black mist returns when im at my weakest
Even if I wither away
I'll say farewell with a smile on my face
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allets's picture

Black Mist

sounds like an aged fine whisky. I like the image. Like purple rain : )  Glad u r taking the 365 challenge! ~A~



Carcass's picture

I probably won't post every

I probably won't post every day but its not a bad idea!

allets's picture

I Finally Have

a reason to write short verse. Whenever you write, it is a treat ~A~