• A dark fog rose
    High into the sky,
    Shielding what's left of the dim sun

    The mighty or the weak,
    The smart or the dumb
    Could not possibly escape.

    Out of the light,
    And into the darkness,
    The pathways are far too vague.

    With its infinite possibilities,
    The endless twists,
    And the road-less turns.

    You stumble into
    An abandoned graveyard
    One with only one grave.

    It, too, abandoned,
    All dusty and crumbling,
    Awakens a chill and shiver.

    But none-the-less,
    You step up to the lone stone
    And bent down.

    With one swoop,
    You dusted away
    All the dust and webs

    And with your own eyes
    You read the name
    On the empty gravestone.

    It is your name
    And in the end,
    You chose the path of death.

    The fog,
    It seems,
    Only hides two paths:

    The path of living and surviving,
    And the path of death and dying,
    Which everybody will eventually stumble onto...