The fog it comes in like a silent comfort, rolling and thrumbing through the land. It covers everything in it's wake like an unknown mystery, moving and swishing like waves on the sand. It fills your lungs with truths and lies, never binding any as its own. The secrets held within are subtle yet bold, and if you listen close you'll hear it speak with a tongue of old. The stare it holds is fearsome yet peaceful, as you lose yourself in the embrace of the dead.
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~Original Poems~
PoetryUnprofessional original poems about anything I want to write about. Updated anytime I feel the obligation and inspiration to write. Usually once every month I'd say... Hope you very much enjoy, and I thank you endlessly. (!!None of the images shown...