M I S T

There's a long path in that dense wood

With a black iron fence

I  frequently lean on there

Looking at the silhouette when dawn broke

And my puppy, Cloy lays down lazily near my feet

Leaves whisper  shaken by the soft wind

Under thousands of  silhouette rays

Makes surrounding like heaven on Earth

Cloy startles, getting up when he hears birds chirp

Staring at me sharply then lays down again

When a thin mist touches my  face

I can feel the cold on my skull

As if killing the stress in my chest

I comfort myself saying, 

Dreams, are merely nightmares

Nothing to worry about

If I'm helpless

I 'll lean again on the same spot

Complaining, but no one cares

Accepting the pain, but it's totally unbearable

Whenever everything is silent

I wish to ask the wind, the mist, and the silhouette

"How long can we get together?"

But just the  hissing wind replies

It seems, it's trying to tell me:

That aging process happens every second

Then I try to smile very sweetly

But only a sour smile seen on my wrinkle face