Walking Through The Fog
A mist descends and clouds my eyes like it never has before,
Shrouding things I knew so well they may be lost forever more,
The closeness of the fog creeps in and grips so tightly to my being,
That all familiar sights and sounds are faded from my smothered seeing.
Things I had known now are gone and things before me stand anew,
But some are there that were before, some are there but they're too few,
Lost and lonely in this place I cling to each familiar hold,
Each memory of a warm embrace strengthens me against the cold.
I know around me there are lands that house all memories I hold dear,
And at each edge a border stands that bars this fog and keeps them clear,
But travelling from each to each requires a journey that I dread,
For it necessitates I stand in this cold fog, so dense, so dead.
Oh sunlight could you not burn through and cast your light upon my way,
Illuminate this broken bridge which joins each place where I would stray,
Guide my steps so I could run, not falter in this bitter gloom,
Show me where each foot should fall that I may leave this clouded tomb.
But I know that no light will fall as I press through this crumbled land,
I gird my will, stand straight and tall and fumble on with outstretched hand,
I know if I keep pushing on, this clinging fog will soon relent,
I know I'll find safe haven, though most likely not the one I meant.
So if you find me lost out here be patient as I slowly roam,
If you can see what I cannot, please take my hand and guide me home,
Please lead me from this empty place and see me safely to my door,
Please help me now as I have helped, others that were lost before.