Mist

The wild stands in front of me

With its arms wide open

Claiming to be calm and composed

But seems to be out of notion.

As I follow the narrow path

Going deep inside the woods

Thinking of the past

Moving the branches which are crooked.

Nature thickens herself

The chill breeze began to blow,

I began to see what went wrong

What grief, what agony, I owe.

Moving along the shrubs of memories

Strolling towards the luring mist

I have nothing left to offer but surrender myself

My presence will fade away,

You will never know that I still exist.