Fog II

safe in
a soft
empty,

silver’s magic
flows
between
this step
and
the
next.

there
is nothing

but this,
and
paradise.

high above,
She sweetly
bores through,
with mystique
&
grace-
She is
lovely,
she is,
more.

She sees
the serene infinite
is
nothing more
than a pit for the blind.

a void for the dammed.

She smiles down,
mockingly
cold, and wicked.
jealous
of your fire.

burn
baby
burn

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