The Fog in My Soul

Cold and damp winter fog
Creeping, seeping,
Into my soul.

Like pulling off the freeway,
My life moves at a different speed,
In this helter skelter tempest of time.

Past the cool mists of autumn,
Descending further into the depths,
To the season of my soul's despair.

The air so full, laden of mental moisture,
Laden with the tears of my being this day.
Heart heavy gravity weighs my existence.

Thick air to match
My head so thick.
Each breath from this swamp
A quagmire of quicksand.

Trodden, berated, disheveled,
Full of confusion and frustration.
No answers, except with the passage of time.