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Hazy Days
Publié le 22 déc. 2025
Mis à jour le 22 déc. 2025
Poésie et chanson
3 min
Poésie et chanson
Publié le 22 déc. 2025
Mis à jour le 22 déc. 2025
3 min
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16 lectures
Hazy Days
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I went for a walk on a hazy day,
Couldn’t see far, everything was gray,
The sun was nowhere to be found,
Swear I could almost hear hell’s hound.
I felt right at home: it looked like my mind.
Heavy and blurry, but not fully blind.
I darted out, straight into the cold,
Not sure if I was confused or bold.
I guessed my way, rediscovering all,
Wrapped head to toe in a misty shawl.
Lost inside familiar ground,
I started questioning all around.
In the death of autumn, the birth of winter,
A thick fog settles on December.
Filtering the world, draining life,
Too dense to ever cut with a knife.
The veil smothers my soul,
Tames my spirit into control,
But as seasons turn, the mist will drift away,
And maybe my thoughts will… one day.
Bare trees whisper broken tales,
Of greener days and cleaner trails.
The ground is
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