The Fog

The Fog

A Poem by Bill O. Writes

Mangled alloys
I have been expelled
A fog descends
I glance
Flesh torn from bone
Can I not reenter?
The fog thickens
He who was once I
It who once was
A howl floods my ear
The fog lifts
He stands before me
Lamps for eyes
Scythe in hand
I must depart

© 2021 Bill O. Writes


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In the time of reaping we are both sower and reaper. And that can be very grim. Thanks for sharing.

Posted 2 Years Ago
Bill,

A very interesting way to describe that visit from the reaper.
Lamps for eyes, with dull bulbs...being expelled from life.
Guess that visitor will knock on our door one day...
descriptive and eerie.
j.

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Bill O. Writes

4 Years Ago

Thanks for the feedback, Jacob!

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122 Views
2 Reviews
Added on July 20, 2021
Last Updated on July 20, 2021

Author

Bill O. Writes
Bill O. Writes

New Haven, CT



About
Unspecified years old. My feelings on writing: Writing and reading (for pleasure) are both lost arts. If it's not about something tangible, measurable, no one wants to read it, so why bother writi.. more..