A Rolling Thunder

A poem that I decided to write after being out on the porch late at night.

Upon the pond in the back

There is a fog rolling in

A beacon of light breaks through

Creating a strong luminescent growth

It sails toward me

Like a ship without a captain

Cold feverish thrills running down the spine

Nerves reacting to the fumes running in my mind

Thoughts cascading down the river

Into bleak and utter blindness

This is where I stand

And make my mark

This is where I want to be

Always stopping at the start