The Mist
Is it cloud that falls so gently
When mountain top is kissed
Or does it rise from the valley
This cold and haunting mist
All pale shapes and grey shadows now
Sight rendered all but blind
Like whiskey drunk too fast somehow
A fogging of the mind
Unknown fears in every crease
The fears of never knowing
My will cannot command you cease
And keep my fears from growing
Being trapped in ghostly blanket
Suffered your icy chill
Yea sun would come I’d thank it
And temper failing will
If but scant rays could break rampart
And glimmer added hue
A warmth to spirit and to heart
Gained strength to see this through
Should graced light fail and hope abide
My journey will not stop
All my fears must be put aside
If goal the mountain top
So, taunt me now you evil mist
You cruel, sadistic haze
Battle you, my will exist
Earning my brighter days
Set upon me your eerie wrath
You may have chosen me
But I the chooser of my path
Will choose my destiny
commonsensiblyspeaking 
Loved the spirit of this one.life maybe uncertain with we having no control on events but we certainly have control on how we chose to react to it.great fighting spirit in beautiful and simple words…
Thank you beautiful Meena! Your words are always uplifting and heartfelt. You are such a blessing!
Thanks a lot dear😊
That’s vibrant full of life in it.💞💙💞
Thank you for your kind words Samyak! Your comments and support are invaluable.
It’s a delight to read amusing stuff 💓💞
Wonderful poem Brad, bravo
That means a lot Mathew! Thank you!