A Haze

A dark haze,

Clouds of vicious smoke,

Spiralling,

Waltzing to an ominous tango,

Clawing its fangs deep down,

Scavenging into a tormented soul.

The mystic soul,

Lost,

Bewildered,

Hurt,

It wails.

Seeking solace,

Searching for a beacon bright,

That would lighten up ,

Those dreary paths.

Fallen into a dark abyss,

It trudges along wearily,

It stumbles,

Scraped by the sharp stones,

Anointing them with a crimson hue,

Infusing some colour on those grey walls,

Paying obsceience to its hoary gloom.

Step by step,

Mired in trepidation,

It crawls along.

Battered and bruised,

It seeks redemption,

It looks for hope,

Living in dread,

Unsure of morrow,

It moves on,

Hoping against hope,

That some day,

Sun would shine,

Dispelling the dreary haze,

And life would again smile.