White Grey Mists


There is a tug, a pull, and then a lull.

The light dims a little, the heat burns less.

The magic disappears with a soft crackle but a definite snap.

The white mist rises and engulfs all.

The sprinkled dust on the ground holds the answers.

The steps that walked away,

Will come back one day.

The light and heat will burn brighter.

The magic will lend unbending hope.

And the now grey mists will make way for yet another dream.

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