In the mist

everything is dull

gray

misty

sad

the mist distorts things

makes them seem to be

what they are not

a few chirps from some brave bird

are all I hear

the rain is drizzling

a shameful defeat

every gleam of light is hidden

in the mist

like the cloak of night

it comes

covers

smothers

all rebellion

all hope of victory is gone

an old wizened tree

in place of the strong oak that once was

in the sunlight

and now we: those who once fought bravely,

are in the mist

2\6\96

(um...yeah, I don't know where that was going)