Fog quickly descends, damp,
uncomfortable like wet shoes.
Soft, seemingly harmless, smell
the scent of mildew, subtle yet ever-present
clouding into the darkness of my thoughts
bringing excessive gray distortion.
Peering through dense moist haze,
my eyes strain, my thoughts race,
making it hard to breathe.
Search for an escape,
a happy memory, a bright spot,
yet light only enhances the density,
thicker, impossible, obscuring
even what is right before me.
Trapped, the mind blocks my passage,
and here I shall remain, until the clouds lift.
Waiting, suffering, I am powerless.
Perhaps a spark from inside can burn off
this nightmare, or perhaps I am here
for a very long time.