The Fog

The last twelve months were blissful,

In sunshine and travel and love,

I've soared and roamed and grown and flown,

Like a fluttering transcending dove.

Then from the depths it grabbed me,

And dragged me into the fog,

Clawed and scratched and tore me up,

The howling beastly black dog.

Fighting, it sunk its teeth deeper,

There was nowhere I could run,

The tears they burn like acid,

What happened to the Sun?

Malfunction. Sadness. Anger.

Normality on an unreachable shelf.

My eyes no longer look like mine,

Where did I leave myself?

Batten down the hatches,

Accept the extended night,

And now just ahead I see it...

The love. The peace. The light.