Poem By William King

Rancid, rotting, raving, eyeless, soulless in the night
Creeping, crawling, crazing, crashing, midnight calls the flight
Untold as yet, unknown to me, unfelt for warmth inside
But now it’s running, rolling closer, gliding as a tide
Unstaunched it’s moving closer now, smothers all in sight
Dripping, dark, dim dismal, draining, death to earthly light
But mornings coming closer now, it’s almost here at hand
Banishing the mist, it goes, the fog has left the land.

Comments about Fog

There is no comment submitted by members.

Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of KING


Shimmering hues alight the sky
Where o’er my head and past my soul
A thousand dreams will flit and roll
In timeless dancing for the gods

Imitation Of Horace

can his gen'rous Soul confine
To a small Room, few Dishes, and some Wine,

The Art Of Cookery

Ingenious L-- were a Picture drawn
With Cynthia's Face, but with a Neck like Brawn;


Not, how did he die, but how did he live?
Not, what did he gain, but what did he give?
These are the units to measure the worth
Of a man as a man, regardless of birth.

Shadows Fire

What shadows fly upon the night
And whisper wordless fear
They strike all peoples hearts with fright
And kill our ones so dear