The Fog Lifts

(… for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. … Hamlet)

When the night descends

And the moon awakes,

The spirit transcends

And the heart’s at stake;

The shadows enlarge

And the ghosts appear,

They haunt to barge

Suffocate and spear!

But soon the fog lifts,

And the day comes out

With all its gifts

There’s light throughout;

The shadows now become

The lofty breeze,

The pulse vibrates

To never freeze;

The clouds float through,

The birds fly high on

The sky that’s blue

Till horizon at dawn.

Then I see the smile

That had seemed like a smirk,

Never there to beguile

The thoughts I shirk.

Though completely heal

The fear stays behind

Of what it might steal

On a starless night.

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