The morning mists roll in
Coating the road and hills
The path you’ve long known
Is transposed
Suddenly you find yourself sliding
Slipping out of reality
And into an ethereal world
Bright but unseen, unseeable
You find yourself amongst stories of old
Before you may sit a decrepit church
Or some monstrous illithid
Care must be taken
For reasons real and imagined
Until the fog and the wonder
Burn away
YOU ARE READING
poetic mistakes
Поэзияjust my musings Feel free to leave comments or whatever but don't expect me to do anything about it. This is just a place I put what I write
