Welcome back poets and readers!

I hope you had a responsible April Fools Day.

I have here poetic entry #85.

Even though this style is not quite typical of the bulk of
my other poems, I still feel you'll enjoy it from your seemingly
perpetual, day-in-day-out, life of quarantine.

As such, my style reflects the madness of this whole situation...
So why keep everything the same as before, when right now, nothing is?

I prefer 'seed poetry' and unique, accompanying art. As such, I have here
a new poem, a different style, and some fresh art... GIF art in fact,
for you to maximize your enjoyment while reading and taking it all in.

Without further adieu... enjoy and I'll see you around the HIVE.

Focus: Fog
Seed Words: thick, eerie, cold, damp, strange, glowing, eyes

[original art by hypexals-spiral]

Blinding Fog and Rusted Gears

High above the city hangs a fog.
An eerie blanket that reminds us
that our past casts a strange shadow
before descending upon all a cold forgetfulness.

Do we even see with our eyes anymore,
or are we blindly feeling around in darkness?
Even while each and every sign is glowing,
recessive genes of amnesia obscure our direction.

Everything that makes us who and what we are
looks longingly forward with eccentric hope,
only to find our collective passion evaporated.
A once damp marshland now a desert of rusted gears.

Is there anything beyond tomorrow you fight for?
Can you really self-reflect clearly in a fog so thick?
Maybe the page is torn when moving forward,
not for being too hasty, but eagerness for progress.

-fin-

Much thanks to artist and D&D warrior @artsygoddess for the seed words.

Everybody else is free to share 7 seed words (or 10 to choose 7 from) for my next poem.
Also, if you want a topic to accompany it, let me know too.
Leave a comment as you please.

Cheers!

-Hypexal-