The Mist

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It is strange

This mist,

Which descends today

Upon my lake.

I run and I look

But I just can’t see;

It’s as a veil

Laying over my face.

If I am the bride

Then my groom is in wait;

Hidden

A mystery

Beyond my gait.

The faster I run

The more it comes

Wrapping itself gently

With hands so cool

Around my frame.

I don’t like it

It scares me

And urges me on

To my finish, my end;

That’s 5k today.

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