It drapes with care the lazy lake below
like a blanket sewn out of dull dreams,
and covers trees tall and creepers low,
like a comrade bound by pack and duties.
O Fog! isn't my state just like yours,
caring for few and chiming with many,
with conviction unsure in dreary nights
yet stranded here by chains of responsibility.
Responsibility! its a thread woven by heart
that is burdened by past and scared of future,
just like you, O fog!, I stand still and inert
marching thro' this dreary dusk like a martyr.
Thou vanish unburderned into nothingness
when splendid sun rushes to your aid in morning
I too, O comrade, shall be unfettered at once
when the wisdom within ends this mourning.
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