Grasp the withered air, <br />Bring sorrow to the skies, <br />As the the white consumes, <br />The story's of the lost, <br />Comes the air grasping a path. <br /> <br />Crisp as a morning breeze, <br />The dampness of the air, <br />Why does on get lost, <br />Becoming the swirl of hate, <br />The swirl of missing fates. <br /> <br />Why does one wither in the pain, <br />Get lost in the endless abyss, <br />How can the air be so thick, <br />Can the air become bitter, <br />The air be so strange. <br /> <br />How can it?<br /><br />Sal Mystlic<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mist-15/
