strange shadows creeping up on me
a ruined city whimpers grim
grey clouds bear witness over me
the forecasts lied on a whim
a carousel turns round and round
an eerie dirge on tainted lips
four horsemen of the apocalypse
taking my fate for a spin

ashes ashes, where we fell down

a plague is a memory
of times that weren’t cruel
but now the deck is dealt
and the card I drew is the fool
a plague is a memory
of times you were here
like ashes in the wind you scattered
and good intentions disappeared, disappeared

ashes ashes, where we fell down
our fires burned and spent
burned and spent…

(c) 2017 Allen Wolfie Simpson

inspired by The Mist by Stephen King

Graphic art designed by Allen Wolfie Simpson

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