Member-only story
The Fog
Poetry
Stillness Whispers all around,
Delicate,
Imperceptible,
Incongruous sound;
The Hush Speaking softly
Of another place and Time,
Bending Perception
Through Inharmonious Rhyme.
The Fog Enwraps from every side,
Closing in,
Drawing out
An Indiscernible Cry;
The Mist Breathing Blithely,
A Leviathan of Olde;
Enshrouding Inexorably
With Inescapable Cold.
.
Happy Halloween & Samhain
~Morgan~
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