The Unknown

Like a misty black cloud
It swirls in darkness
Full of questions
Of the unknown.

Ominously it hovers,
Ever so close
As if to touch,
Yet far enough
To be suspended
Just out of reach.

As if it sensed
Its tantalizing effect,
with a sardonic wind
It mocks me,
The currents
Blowing me away.

Struggling to ignore it,
I fail
As it continues
To berate me
With heavy hail
That begins to fall

Flooding my senses
It drags me down
Into a murky
Quagmire
Of uncertainty

Clawing at the surface,
Flailing my arms and legs,
I panic
And continue to sink

Until

Tomorrow comes
And it dissolves
Into the present.

Opening my eyes,
I realize,
it was me.

I created it.
A product of the mind
Inefficient for its purpose,
As it imploded,
And drowned me with it.
 

This poem is about: 
Me

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