Thunder claps and echoes.
Lively blue sky turns sick as
Dark clouds penetrate its serenity.
Uneasy feeling in the air.
A storm is approaching.
A storm on the senses.
He is coming.
Last bit of blue erased with grey.
Lifelessness and nervousness creep through
As deathly mist blankets the land.
Life appears incapable of existing within its vaporous grasp.
There is something in the mist.
He comes out of the mist, faintly at first.
Eventually emerging as a ghost would through a wall.
Alive but no emotions.
Living but void of life.
Some believe his is just a man.
Some believe he is the devil.
Those who meet him never speak again.
Soulless and empty.
Void of life.
Like the Mistwalker.
The mist dissipates and the earth reappears.
Blue cracks through the grey.
Life returns as lifelessness fades.
Blue serenity fills the sky until the storm is a memory.
There is a casualty.
Comprehension, communication and sanity,
A breathing shell of a person.
Their mind and soul,
Forever lost in the mist.
Forever with the Mistwalker.