Like a rolling tide the mist goes by, gray and thick what in it hides? Will it pass us by? Or will we get a nasty surprise.
From the mist comes shrieks and howls. Deep and wild, throaty growls. Shadows live within the shroud, through our minds they every prowl.
The imagination makes wild things true, pulls us under, runs us through. Will it take us to? Or will only we escape me and you?
The bell tolls high and loud, the mist is thicker than any cloud. It feasts on terror, incites our fear, as it grows so ever near.
Chills spring across our flesh, as the darkness puts us to the test. It rushes onward on it’s path, flooding towards us in it’s wrath.
The hour has struck. The time has come. The mist is here, all is done. The shadows reach. The figures creep. For our souls they’ve come to reap.
RedRavenPoems 
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