The Fog

The fog slithers in

through the dim light of morning.

Silence commands the dawn

as the heavens take their final breath.

The world wakes to the shadow of day.

There is no warmth of sunlight.

As the sun's rays break through

the silence is broken.

In the light of dawn the world sees

where the night has lain its cold, dark hand.

The daylight illuminates

the last of the stolen innocence.

As the fog lifts,

the sun shines through.

Only to illuminate the black of mourning,

for the loss of the innocent.

No more are they blindly carefree,

no more do they believe in fairy tales.

All that's left is their belief in night.

Night and its cold, dark hand.