The Mist

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~

4 Comments

    1. Smiles and Smiles, Michelle 🙂 Thank You my dear Friend. I enjoyed the flow of this one too…it came out so magically, I was like 😮 when I was done 🙂

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