Poetry/ FOG

    The boat moved deeper into the fog. All alone I put paddle to water, trying to make my way into this strange and foreign world . Slowly I lose my bearings of all things human as foreboding shapes move toward me only to brush away and disappear once again into the pale. Ever changing, they offer only a promise to be, something., anything before they slip away again into a lie of illusion. Taking with them all hints of hope and home and safety. It occurs to me that its time past that floats by on the water below me and I sense the growing distance between life and myself.
    The world has drifted into silence and even my heart now makes no noise . I think of  my friends and family and wish I could go back, but thats not meant to be, this day. Move on, move on, I must move on. Through the mist and into the endless nothingness; ahead through my dreams, ahead through my nightmares, ahead into what was always meant to be.
     Colder, I feel the fabric of the fog sink into my skin, blend and become a part of me and  my movements slow as it takes control. The frosty white blanket invades my body and brings with it the first welcoming  thoughts of  the long sleep to come. I try to shiver, to shake off the chill, but I am no match, and for the first time I am forced to accept the idea of a world without tomorrow.
     Drifting now the boat is on its own, no longer am I its master. Deeper and deeper into this clouded nether world I am bound by fate to travel. I feel all illusion's of control leave my clouded mind as the paddle slides slowly from the   now still hand of the living world and  down into unknown depths of the next below. I don't mind,  I know that the boat has taken me as far as it can, fore I must take as we all  must,,,, that final journey alone,,,,

                                      The fog and I are one.

                                                                                                R. Sweat