The Mist

The world is all white, Distance veiled from sight, Swirling vapours of mist Just what I had wished As I’m hidden from view By this mist that I grew Shielding my delicate soul Till once more I am whole All that I see is white on white In this misty land far from light All contrast is muted and soft Muffled by cotton wool aloft All direction is missing now Under this snowy white bough This wet blanket of Lilly leaves Affects sight and all it perceives I am wondering life lost Through paths I have crossed Past steps I have made In this white masquerade I float through this land With my pain in my hand It’s too soon to let go Of these things that I know When will this veil finally lift? Will this muted weaving ever lift? Or am I doomed to roam evermore? Trapped by emotion and internal war?