Mista Of Silent Death
Ramblings of the Mad and Distrubed
How am i to end up....
Watching as time goes by, flowing
The transparent curtain of ice, froze in a moment
A sheet of satin fog hovers overhead thickening
Eerie and murky to the touch, devouring
Entrapped but conscious, breathing
The bitter touch of end, chilling the moistness in the air
Breathe in, a piercing pain enters my lungs
Whispered screams, exit as exhaled
Numbed from this state of crystal slummber which I rest
Movement, grasping onto something seems impossible
The fog clears, leaving a streakless glass pane
Absent of color and tone, darkness.