The Fog
I can no longer see past the trees
They stand solemn in line.
Their dark outline
Weeping from the sky.
All I can hear
Is the faint heartbeat
Coming from my chest.
It’s getting faster
As my breaths
Become shallower.
It would appear
That I am choking
On the fog.
My lungs can no longer take
This dense air
That’s creeping in my mouth
And filling me.
I start to run
Into the forest
How far can I go in?
Before I’m halfway out
The fog chases
Until it has consumed
Me.
Copyright © Faith Carmichael | Year Posted 2014
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