By Shino Yume
The invisible feild can not be seen
From the top of this soft green hilltop.
It is a gray mist morning,
A time for mystery.
From here it looks like soft white puffs of snow.
And I am dreaming of falling into the mist here.
And getting lost in this fantasy.
Strange things happen in the mist.
You never know what's happening
Who you are talking to
Who is watching you
What you are seeing
Or even if you are you.
The mist is spreading...
It's coming for me...