My Girl In The Mist

By Mridul Tiwari

Walking in the mist I heard a whisper Over the time it became crisper

Her enticing essence made me go white Even in that dark sight

Following her adored charm in the wood I heard behind a soft foot

Then heard a soft cracking voice

Trying calling me nice once and twice Felt a hand on my shoulder

Which made my possession stronger Now with fear of losing her in black Roping my

emotions I looked back

An Angelic beauty was there with covered face

Gave me a letter and made a furious

pace

The letter made me in tears

With grief and joy that word can't make one hears

Now she is not in the mist

Nor in my fist but deep inside my gist Time has gone but whenever mist come

I feel her drowning absence with a glass of rum.

By Mridul Tiwari