erida’s mist…

with every step forward you take
it flows just below the surface
you sense it as you move
as if someone is mocking you
you smell nothing
feel nothing
but that static
of an approaching storm
you hear nothing
for it’s like a gas
entering the body
through portals of the mind
to incite warfare
to start a riot
or send a lover
into uncontrolled rage
poisonous
corrosive
you feel confused
breathing quickens
lungs burn
heart pounds
you feel a peculiar horror
a feeling that persists
you feel
hated

to my friend’s life questions….

i could not see his face
nor hear the sound of his voice
but printed words
his words
were tears
tears one could hear
if listening with the heart
not for sounds
but for a soul’s approaching storm
where changing winds
swirl in patterns of disbelief
tossing sacred vows
against the rocks of  uncertainty
swirling the dust of doubt
into his mind
blinding his eyes to love
and to distant dreams
just beyond the horizon of hope
he could not see them
nor feel their presence
for the darkness of faith
was upon him
a darkness so thick
not even the voice of god
could be heard