Darkened Days Under White Mists
Underhill, a dark nest broken only
by shyful darkness peering inside
brave against gales beyond doors
pale at tales from lands far removed
from this Dale your crown wears.
pales have fallen across the ways
lands corrupted by darkened days
coming forward from warm nests
unto white mists in a shroud mess
lantern hung before as gone by
watching as all about decays
no dragons to slay
no men to conquer
all castles lay in ruins
just bricks strewn aside
in piles, by pikes, by iron
moving on until unable to see
spirits thicken around in a sea
fog of dead clung on until lost
fallen off the road into a hovel
to discover a grotesque foster
the squabb shrieked lightning
in a roar, bolting for the door
legs sore, from a mighty soar,
mists clinging to the whole
being in debt to time
to retreat to the comfort
of the hole, underhill
home
shadows rising from the mists
figures of stature changing
distortion mind bleeding
eyes cry from sight
they let out a wail horrendous
balling on the ground
begging for them to away
3/19/22 – Andy McRae
RadioactivePoetry 