the fog

This fog is like a prelude to: the days of tomorrow, to the days of no more sorrow.

To the dreams that turn to fears, and the fears that change to tears.

Till I wake alone in my winters bed,

Chilled salty emptiness upon my face,

Icey air that flurries around my head,

Leaden heart inveigles to end this race.

I long for thy presence and wait...

Longing for the days where I enjoy a sunset, where what follows I no longer dread.

For the days of laughter and cheers, covering all those of loneliness and fears.

This fog is thicker, now as I wait upon tomorrow...