Mists

Sitting alone on the forest floor,
Bygone breezes tousle my hair.
I lie down on the swampy floor
Ripples lull me into a dreamy lair.
Friends they were yesterday;
Silhouettes of foes resemble them.
Out in the darkness, it isn’t very clear.
I could never see very well, anyway.
Fairies whisper in my ear,
Mermaids look up from the waters below.
Friends they were yesterday,
Today they are here no more.
A tear rolls down
But I’m not sad.
There is bliss in solitude,
It is not that bad.
I look over to my lover’s lair
It is but empty, I am aware.
I peep into the waters once more.
The mists rise, it clears:
I see myself
All alone.
Love and lust, a lost war;
No casualties, no one ever fought.
I see myself wrinkled, weary.
Awakened, I rise, dreary.
I peak into the waters, again.
An old lady smiles back through tears.
She is but alone;
And has been all these years.
I sigh. It has drawn to a close,
I recognize. Wading into the lake
I close my eyes again.
The mists rise and settle.
Peace at last, here to stay.
Music plays, softly, surely;
Celebrating her demise.
“Solitude is beautiful”,
They say amidst sighs.
Fairies blow out their candles.
Mermaids retire to their shells.
The forest slumbers at long last,
Almost unaware of fairytales.
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