The Land of Fog

Choking fog is all around,
And as I walk along the cold wet sand,
I can hear waves crashing, upon that sand they pound.
And I walk through the fog, through this land.

Few others have trod this path,
And yet I go on,
The wind howls, somehow I incurred its wrath,
Simply because I walk, from the rest of the world I am gone.

No advice reaches me, I am on my own.
No map to guide me,
Here I am alone.
But then I see,

The fog is abating, could it be true?
After all this, I might be okay?
Escape is drawing closer, somehow I always knew.
I just have to find my way.

Christopher Robert Keizur, Jan 25, 2009