Elegy #1

Turn off the foglights.
Surrounded us in darkness
and the ghostly white that lingers.
Let whatever lay ahead remain misty –
a mystery.

For the final crimson streaks
have rid themselves from our sky,
not until morn will
darkness turn to light.

We’ll see things clearer
in day than night,
we’ll fight with this curtain
to reach the other side.

For you will be there,
our questions answered,
the haze which daunts
us will become our comfort.

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I’m not exactly sure that can classify as a elegy, nor are there many metaphors or rhyme but it’s what has come out of today’s brain activity.