Black Mist

Sorrow stains the walls tonight, like coffee spilling, slow and old. The sky is heavy, leaden, blind, and the wind through gutters sounds so cold. Forgotten names drift into dark, and in the mirror stands a face unknown. Nothing shines, no light remains, and every step turns back to stone. Emptiness in my eyes, rust is running through my veins. The heart still beats, but just barely now, each breath is wrapped in pain. The shadow steals the light away, and everything begins to fade. There is no road, there is no us, just cold and dark and dust. The final circle draws me in, the voice is gone, the time has drowned. I walk where all the depths begin — and underneath, there’s no one now. The bed is like a coffin now, without a lid, without a dream. The night suspends my fear for a while, in a hollow, trembling seam. The days hang like dirty strings, with broken hopes that never grew. Every morning tastes like ash, every evening cuts me through. Emptiness in my eyes, rust is running through my veins. The heart still beats, but just barely now, each breath is wrapped in pain. The shadow steals the light away, and everything begins to fade. There is no road, there is no us, just cold and dark and dust. The final circle draws me in, the voice is gone, the time has drowned. I walk where all the depths begin — and underneath, there’s no one now. Don’t look for me inside these lines, I left that place a long time ago. Through the back door, out of sight, where all the echoes start to break and go. Where walls become another wound, and time turns black and sinks below, there is no trace, no name, no light — just the place where shadows grow. The shadow tears the day apart, and everything goes dark and still. There is no road, there is no us, just cold and dark and dust. The final circle draws me in, the voice is gone, the time has drowned. I walk where all the depths begin — and underneath, there’s no one now. Black mist... no names remain... black mist... and only shade.