Through the Mist
I grope through forest misted by my pain
Unearthly feel of gloom enshrouding me
Like wispy ghosts the memories a bane
Their hazy fingers keep from breaking free
Beclouded are my thoughts with foggy stain
Obscured is reason; gone is sanity
Unclear my way, for mist is laden thick
Your insubstantial love has left me sick
Eileen Manassian
For Nette’s Through the Mist Contest
August 24, 2014
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014
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