A peculiar fog has overcome
certain valleys in my mind,
a thick, silvery mist
lays itself within arm’s reach.
No amount of energy spent
can dissipate this haze.
I paused, and instead chose
to follow my musings on the matter.
When we cannot see the path before us
our minds become devoured
by a force that has killed more dreams
than failure ever could;
It is within doubt that we face the truth
of our inner shadow.
Darkness clouds
and Light reveals,
but what if that were not so?
The Light can burn
and the Dark can shroud.
This, too, is a blessing.
But why the obstruction to my path?
Could this Mantle I so desperately sought
be the source?
To know all that was,
and will be,
is nothing short of a curse.
But the origins of this smog elude me.
Perhaps doubt
can only be removed
by action.
Perhaps the greatest threat mankind faces
is the threat we find in ourselves.


2 thoughts on “Miasma

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