The Mist

11
Written by Morgan

The Mist

The Mist Speaks of Broken Memory,
Silhouette of Silent Sound,
Raindrops of Forgotten Bliss
Falling all around.

The Mist Whispers of Hollow Wonder,
Mighty Portents of Cacophony,
Sealed in Lavish Empty Time,
Unspoken Soliloquy.

The Mist Calls out of the Waking Calm,
Transcending Impetuousness,
Waiting in the Breathless Hush
Of Long Remembered Forgetfulness.

~Morgan~
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Beautiful Photograph by: BraCom (Bram) on Flickr

11 Comments

    1. This image SO reminded me of the scene in The Others when the main character gets lost in the fog…it conjured up most of this poem 🙂

      Thanks Ever so Much!!

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    1. I agree, the mist is another world within our own, enshrouding, beguiling, and beautiful 😉

      Thanks Ever So my friend.
      Sweet Blessings of Joy!!!!!

      Like

      Reply

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